


Counterpoint

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cassandra and Cullen friendship, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of addiction, Slow Burn, mentions of withdrawal, mildly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 80,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Counterpoint is difficult. … it is not just taking any opposite. It is finding the right opposite.” ~Robert Wilson</p>
<p>You know, the nice thing about the Inquisition is how it brings everyone together, no matter where they're from or what they have done or been in the past. This is a slightly AU tale of the Inquisition which brings together Dorian and Cullen as well as Maxwell Trevelyan and Cassandra Pentaghast. I should warn you that the chapters will be of varying length depending on how the story takes me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always seen Cullen and Cassandra as being friends. I don't think you'd trust someone the way Cullen trusts Cassandra if there wasn't some friendship there. So this is something of an establishing chapter for the story as well as Cullen, Cassandra and the Inquisitor.

Cullen watched the interaction between Cassandra and the Herald with well-concealed amusement. Maxwell Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, mage of the Ostwick Circle, was so much like a large good-natured puppy that Cullen sometimes had to refrain from patting the man on the head and saying, “Good boy”. Right now, Trevelyan seemed intent on directing all of that puppyish charm at Cassandra and Cullen honestly couldn’t tell how that was going for him. It was certainly entertaining to watch though and when Trevelyan finally bounded off towards the gates of Haven, Cullen walked over to join the Seeker.

“I think he likes you,” he said blandly.

Cassandra gave him a withering glare, which he let wash over him. He’d been rather intimidated by the steely Seeker when he’d first met her in Kirkwall. He’d been dispirited and overwhelmed by the aftermath of the destruction of the Chantry and Meredith’s death and desperately trying to hold together the shattered remains of the Templars and the Circle. When he’d been told about the arrival of a Seeker of Truth, he’d wondered how things could possibly get worse. 

Cassandra, however, had been firm but reasonable and had merely wanted the details of what had happened. She hadn’t seemed interested in placing blame on anyone’s shoulders then nor had she been since. She had simply wanted the truth and he had given it to her as best as he could. Somehow he’d managed to impress her and when she’d offered him a role in the Inquisition the Divine had been quietly gathering together, he hadn’t had to think too hard before accepting. And when he’d approached her about the lyrium, she’d been understanding and had immediately offered her aid without him even having to ask.

He’d gotten to know her better on the trip to the Conclave. She’d helped him through the first truly evil couple of weeks of withdrawal, they’d sparred together at every opportunity and she’d even teased him in her slightly austere way about his poor sea legs. They were both warriors and they spoke a common language because of that. They were both of the Chantry but perhaps not as enamoured with it as they had once been, each in their separate ways. They had more in common than either of them had expected and if he was asked, he would probably call her a friend.

“Do not encourage him,” Cassandra growled. “He is…”

“A puppy?” Cullen suggested with his best innocent look.

Cassandra gave him a sharp glare then relaxed and shook her head with a small chuckle. “That is one of the better descriptions I have heard.”

“What’s he like outside of Haven?”

“Enthusiastic. Driven. Relentless.” Cassandra sounded approving then she rolled her eyes and continued in a far drier tone. “And bound and determined to help _everyone_ we come across.”

Cullen chuckled. “He seems to be having a good effect, if Leliana’s reports are anything to go by. The Inquisition and its Herald are gaining a good name.”

“I know and that makes it worth it,” Cassandra replied. “He does not much like the title but he understands why we have not tried to squash it.”

“He’s from the Ostwick Circle, isn’t he?”

Cassandra nodded. “He described it as sedate and Leliana’s reports agree, though there was an element within the Circle that rebelled with all the others.”

“He wasn’t part of that?”

“No, he says that while he agrees with some of what the rebels say, he thinks that collectively they are idiots who would try and swat a fly with a hammer.”

Cullen’s eyebrows went up. “Descriptive.”

“He said that anyone who thinks what Anders did in Kirkwall was a good thing is a moron.”

Cullen scowled. “Well, I’m not going to disagree with him on that score.”

“He also said that Kirkwall’s Circle was a disaster waiting to happen,” Cassandra said, watching him closely.

Cullen could only sigh at that assessment and shove down the wave of guilt at his own part in it. “I can’t say I disagree with him on that score either.”

Cassandra patted him on the arm. She’d argued with him on more than one occasion about just how much guilt and responsibility he should be taking on about the events in Kirkwall but she’d yet to convince him of her point of view. He suspected it was going to come down to which of them was the more stubborn. It was an even money bet at the moment.

“He likes you,” she said. “He said you’re not what he expected of a Templar.”

“I’m not a Templar anymore,” Cullen replied, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. That line was starting to become automatic.

“You know what he means.”

Cullen grimaced. He did. Trevelyan had turned his puppyish charm on him the previous day and had even had the good grace not to press about the matter of the Fereldan Circle when he’d metaphorically put up his defences. Whatever the Templars had been like in Ostwick, they’d clearly not soured Trevelyan’s opinion of the Order in general. He’d been genuinely interested in knowing more about Cullen, which was, sadly, something of a new experience. 

“Who do you think he intends to approach?” he asked.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at him but allowed him the change of subject. “He wants to go back to the Hinterlands tomorrow and I suspect we will be heading for Redcliffe while we are there.”

Cullen grumbled under his breath and then sighed. He couldn’t fault the man for wanting to seek the aid of his fellow mages.

“I do not think he trusts the rebels very much,” Cassandra added. “But I think he wants to start there and if he doesn’t get answers he likes, he will go to Therinfal Redoubt.”

“That’s… fair,” Cullen conceded. He had personal reasons for wanting to go after the Templars beyond simply thinking they would be useful but it wasn’t his decision to make.

“I believe he sees the merits in recruiting either side,” Cassandra added, raising an eyebrow at him.

Cullen sighed. “We agreed to let it be his decision. I’m not arguing with that.”

“But you don’t like it.”

Cullen was silent for a moment. “You know I have reasons for distrusting mages beyond the events in Kirkwall.”

“I know,” Cassandra said calmly. “But are you being biased?”

“Of _course_ I am,” Cullen said with a hint of exasperation. “I _know_ that. That’s why I agreed with you and Leliana and Josephine to leave the decision to the Herald.” He sighed and his shoulders slumped a little as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I am _trying_ to be fair.”

Cassandra’s expression became quietly sympathetic. “I know, Cullen. There are many who would not begrudge you holding onto your anger, all things considered.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “I believe the Herald might even be one of those people.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“He…” Cassandra paused and seemed to be picking her words delicately. “He seems to have little patience for the egregious mistakes of his fellow mages.” She waved a hand. “But be that as it may, you have come far but occasionally…”

“My biases show?” Cullen said dryly. “I know. I won’t be unfair or unjust if he does recruit the mages, Cassandra. I’m not that man anymore.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Cassandra said in a tone that suggested that any other answer was out of the question. 

It lifted a small weight off Cullen’s shoulders to know that at least one person believed that of him, especially when he wasn’t always sure he believed it of himself. It wasn’t that he disliked mages but more that he… hesitated. Hesitated to trust them and their magic. Feared what they could do. He had seen and experienced some of the worst they could do and sometimes that made it hard to accept that they weren’t all like that. 

But he was trying to move past that. It wasn’t easy but facing the facts of his own fears and biases helped. Mages like Trevelyan helped as well. It was hard to imagine the enormous puppy that was Maxwell Trevelyan ever being like Uldred and his cronies. The idea was simply laughable and that made it easier to look at his fears and doubts about mages and laugh at them as well. Although ‘laugh’ might not be the precise word but it would do for now.

“So I should prepare for the mages,” he said dryly.

“Perhaps.” Cassandra raised and lowered one shoulder elegantly. “We shall see what our foray into the Hinterlands brings.” She gave him an arch look. “Now, Commander, I am in need of a sparring partner and you shall do nicely.”

Cullen pretended to sigh and look put upon as he shrugged off his fur mantle but he drew his sword eagerly enough. Cassandra was a better warrior than him but that had never stopped him wanting to test himself against her and he was good enough to push her more than anyone else here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is where we definitely start heading a little AU and into some of my personal headcanon. There will be more notes about it at the end to explain where I'm coming from. Cullen and the Herald talk about the mages and Trevelyan asks for Cullen's help on behalf of a certain mage we all know.

Cullen leaned over the War Table and shifted a few of his markers around. With the arrival of the rebel mages imminent, he was going to need to pull back the few Templars he had among the ranks. The mages wouldn’t like it but he didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t going to take chances with the safety of the Inquisition in general and he also wasn’t going to take any chances with the safety of the mages. But recalling the Templars meant finding experienced troops to send to replace them and he had precious few of those to spare, which meant… compromise. And that was harder than people might think.

The sound of the door opening drew his attention and he looked up to see Trevelyan edging his way into the room with a very hangdog expression on his face.

“Herald,” Cullen said, straightening up with a grimace as his back twinged.

“Commander,” Trevelyan replied. He then shifted from foot to foot and looked everywhere but at Cullen.

“Is everything alright?” Cullen asked, raising one eyebrow curiously.

Trevelyan shuffled his feet and gnawed at his thumbnail for a moment before he visibly drew himself up and looked at Cullen. “Um… exactly how angry at me are you?”

Cullen blinked. “Uh… not at all? Why would I be?”

“Really?” Trevelyan said with surprise. “But I… the mages…”

Cullen sighed and leaned against the table. “Yes, I would have preferred to recruit the Templars but I have my biases, Herald. The mages will be able to help. I am just… worried about…”

“Possession. Abominations. All that,” Trevelyan said with a frown. “It’s not _that_ common, Commander.” Cullen was silent for a moment and Trevelyan’s frown deepened. “Isn’t it? I mean, at Ostwick, we’d never had anything in… decades, I think.”

Cullen struggled with himself for a moment. “I was at the Fereldan Circle when it… fell. And Kirkwall… well, neither side covered itself in glory there.”

Trevelyan stared at him for a moment then his eyes widened in dismay. Cullen wondered what could possibly have brought on that reaction but then the Herald answered his unspoken question. Much to his surprise it had nothing to do with Kirkwall, which had been his first hesitant guess.

“I… oh… they said… I mean, I was only an apprentice at the time but I overheard some of the senior enchanters talking about the Fereldan Circle. They said only one Templar who was trapped inside the tower sur… vived…”

Trevelyan’s eyes were wide and wounded as his voice trailed off and Cullen ducked his head. He’d known there had been reports made to the other Circles by Gregoir and Irving in the hopes of stopping any similar actions in their tracks. Uldred had corresponded with mages in other Circles, after all, and there had been worries that he had co-conspirators elsewhere. He’d just hoped that certain details had been left out and that the reports had been restricted to the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter of each Circle. Obviously not by Trevelyan’s reaction.

He raised his head with a sigh and nodded at the question that was written all over Trevelyan’s face. “Yes. Of the Templars who were trapped inside the tower, only one survived and that was me.”

From the stricken expression on Trevelyan’s face, those gossiping senior Enchanters he’d eavesdropped on had known at least the broad strokes of what had happened to him and had talked about it. The Herald looked impossibly young in this moment, young and wounded.

“I… I’m sorry, Com… Cullen. I should have… I didn’t…”

“You didn’t know,” Cullen said with a patience that surprised him. Normally he shied away from even _thinking_ about what had happened in Kinloch Hold and tended to get a bit terse when the subject was brought up but the fact that Trevelyan looked like he was about to keel over set something at ease inside him. Trevelyan wasn’t dismissing what had happened or waving it off as an anomaly. He was genuinely distressed and having that… horror… validated by a mage somehow made it a bit… _smaller_ … in Cullen’s mind. Not much but a bit.

“You couldn’t have known,” he continued. “I know my name was never attached to any report. Only those who were there knew and not even all of them.” His expression turned rather rueful. “And I… don’t speak of it much.”

Trevelyan stared at him for a long moment. “And yet… you’re not angry that I recruited the mages? Why?”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “A few years ago, I would have been. I… wasn’t a good man back then. I blamed all mages for what happened to me and I was… unfair. Unjust. Even… cruel.” He looked over at Trevelyan and managed the barest of smiles, a smile that held no mirth. “But then, if I were still that man, Cassandra would never have recruited me.”

“You changed your mind?”

“Yes,” Cullen said with a nod. “In a way. I was angry about what had happened to me and I was… afraid of magic. Of mages. Of what they could do. What they could become. So I took it out on all mages. But between Meredith’s growing madness and her cruelty and inhumane actions and… and Hawke continually challenging me, I… started thinking again instead of just blindly reacting. And once I did that…” He shook his head, shame and embarrassment warring within in. “I could see how wrong I’d been and then I tried… well, I tried.”

Trevelyan was watching him solemnly and Cullen was relieved to see only sorrow, sympathy and understanding in the other man’s eyes and not the condemnation or contempt he’d been half-expecting, despite the Herald’s often-expressed good nature.

“Varric said you fought with them against Meredith,” Trevelyan said.

Cullen nodded again. “I did. She was completely mad by then. The red lyrium, though we didn’t know it until too late. Calling for the Right of Annulment was utterly unjustified. Anders was an apostate, not a Circle mage, and Hawke… dealt with him. The Circle mages did not deserve to be condemned for his actions.” 

He sighed and walked around the table to stand in front of Trevelyan. “Look… I can’t say I’m entirely at ease with magic. I may never be. You can’t… go through something like I did and not be changed by it. Neither can I say that the rebel mages don’t have at least _some_ points in their arguments. Kirkwall was… an outlier in behaviour from what I can tell but it is still a valid example despite that. Or perhaps because of that. Things were bad and Meredith made them worse and no one tried to stop her until it was far, far too late. The Chantry didn’t help and… it all went to hell.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again. Trevelyan was watching him solemnly and he fidgeted a little under the scrutiny. “Solas says the mages will be able to help and I trust him on that score. He knows more than anyone else about the Breach. I don’t object to their presence here. I just feel the need to be cautious, both for the sake of the mages and the rest of the Inquisition’s forces. _If_ something were to go wrong, we have very few Templars who could easily put a stop to it.”

Trevelyan sighed and leaned against the table. “I… I suppose you’re right. I mean, I’ve never seen a mage possessed or become an abomination but I have seen a few lose control of a spell or an experiment.” He gave a small grin. “Nothing a good purge couldn’t fix.”

Cullen returned the smile, though his was a little strained. “That’s what the Templars are there for. Ideally, that is.”

“But we do have to plan for the worst, don’t we? I mean, as leaders. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Plan for the worst, hope for the best and all that.” Trevelyan shrugged. “I mean, not that I’m really a leader for all have a glowy green hand but, well, you know what I mean.”

Cullen nodded. “Yes, I do and yes, we do. Chances are nothing will happen but we have to plan for the worst case scenario so that we know what to do if it happens.”

“Better than being caught with our pants down,” Trevelyan said. “That’s never pretty.”

“Precisely.”

Trevelyan fidgeted for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Cullen said with a small frown.

“For making you… I don’t know, relive what happened or at least dragging it all up out of the mire. I didn’t mean to just… blunder into that.”

“It’s alright,” Cullen replied. “Though I would prefer it if you did not…”

“My lips are sealed!” Trevelyan said, miming a swipe across his mouth. “No, don’t worry on that score, Cullen. I’m just… glad we’re okay. I mean, I wasn’t sure if you liked me or not.” He laughed. “And I sound so juvenile when I say that, don’t I?”

Cullen frowned. “Why would you think I don’t like you? I hope I haven’t given you cause to think that?”

“No, probably not.” Trevelyan ducked his head with a rueful look. “It’s just me. I’m… an idiot.”

Cullen chuckled. “Hardly.” He raised an eyebrow and made sure his expression was as bland as he could make it. “Although… flirting with Cassandra might make me reassess that.”

Trevelyan’s eyes went wide and he blushed. “I… I’m not! I mean, I _am_ but I’m not…” He hung his head and laughed before looking over at Cullen with amused exasperation. “No one ever mentioned you knew how to tease, Commander.”

“I hide it well.”

Trevelyan laughed. “She isn’t going to kill me, is she? For… flirting?”

Cullen’s eyebrow went up. “You really _are_ flirting with her?”

“I… well, yes,” Trevelyan admitted. “I mean, probably pretty badly but…” His face lit up and Cullen smothered a laugh at how beatific he looked. “She’s _amazing_. How can I _not_ flirt with her?” His eyes suddenly widened and he looked at Cullen with growing panic. “She’s not… married or anything, is she? I’m not putting my foot in it majorly, am I?” His eyes widened further. “I… are you… and she?”

Cullen burst out laughing, the first time he could remember properly laughing in a long time. “No,” he managed finally. “No, she and I are… are friends. Nothing more. And no, she’s not married or otherwise involved with anyone that I know of.”

“Whew, that’s a relief.” Trevelyan mimed wiping his brow. He gave Cullen a hopeful look. “So… you think she might be… interested?”

Cullen held up both hands, wondering how the conversation had ended up down this particular path and how he could possibly extricate himself from it. “I’m not the person to ask about that. I’m afraid you’re on your own there.”

“Damn,” Trevelyan said with a sigh. “She’s… well, she didn’t slap me so I guess that’s a good sign.”

“That’s usually the case,” Cullen said dryly.

Trevelyan grinned at him then slapped himself lightly on the forehead. “Oh! I did have another reason for coming to see you. That new mage, the Tevinter one, Dorian.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure what to make of the Tevinter mage who had helped them. On one hand, he _had_ helped and against his former mentor as well, if what he’d said was true. On the other hand, Tevinter didn’t have a good reputation in general. Then again, neither did the Templars so who was he to talk?

“What of him?”

“He wanted to know if there was somewhere he could practise, preferably… and I’m quoting here… where he won’t have the wrath of the southern zealots rain down upon him.”

“Zealots?” Cullen said dubiously. “I don’t think we have any of those here but I take the point he was obviously trying to make.” He frowned for a moment. “There is a clearing a bit further around from where I usually train the recruits that he could use. It’s close enough that he won’t have to troop for hours to get to it but far enough that he won’t…”

“Frighten the horses as my mother used to say?” Trevelyan suggested.

Cullen chuckled. “Yes, that’s a good way of putting it.”

“Great! I’ll let him know to come and speak to you tomorrow,” Trevelyan said almost bouncing to his feet. “You can show him where it is.” 

With that Trevelyan bounded out of the War Room, clearly eager to report back to this Dorian. Cullen leaned back against the War Table for a moment then pushed himself upright. He wasn’t likely to get any more work done tonight so he might as well return to his tent and attempt to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to it. The talk of Kinloch would undoubtedly bring on the nightmares, no matter how kind Trevelyan had been about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, my headcanon is that reports were made by Knight-Commander Gregoir and First Enchanter Irving to the other Circles about what happened in Kinloch to ensure that what Uldred did wasn't repeated at any other Circle. Sure, Cullen's name was left out of the reports and they painted only the broadest and most likely incomplete strokes of what happened to him but 'the only Templar to survive being trapped in the Circle' is going to be mentioned, even if only in the context of 'the only Templar to survive being trapped in the Circle reported that...'. And to continue the headcanon, the First Enchanter in Ostwick received the report and delegated a couple of Senior Enchanters to do some investigating and they're the ones Maxwell overheard and he's such a sheltered puppy that sometimes he blurts first and thinks later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here we go. Finally got these two in the same place at the same time. So... Cullen and Dorian meet and talk. Cullen ponders the nature of being a Templar and Dorian makes him blush and derails his brain. Also, Dorian is not a morning person.

Cullen was in the middle of supervising the latest recruits’ attempts at swordplay when he saw the Tevinter mage approaching out of the corner of his eye. He nodded to one of his lieutenants to take over and extricated himself from the mass of flailing swords and shields to meet the man. He couldn’t help but reflect for a moment on how underdressed the mage was for the weather here before dismissing the idle thought. It wasn’t his problem.

“Magister Pavus, wasn’t it?” he said, holding out his hand.

The Tevinter mage shook it even as he sighed rather dramatically. “Southerners. Not every mage from Tevinter is a magister. My _father_ is Magister Pavus. _I_ am a mere Altus called Dorian.”

Cullen wasn’t sure whether to feel vaguely offended or vaguely amused by the mini rant. He settled on amused. It was too early in the day for being offended. Besides he had a suspicion that if he took offence at everything Dorian said, he’d spend all his time feeling offended and he had too much on his plate as it was to waste energy on that sort of thing.

“Dorian then” he said. “I don’t think we were introduced before. I’m Cullen, Commander of the Inquisition’s army.”

“A pleasure, Commander,” Dorian said. “And loathe as I am to admit to admiring anything you Southern barbarians do, I have to say that fur monstrosity of yours does look a mite warmer than anything I possess. Why on earth is it so cold here?”

Cullen parsed his way through that and smiled a little. “Because we’re in the mountains and there’s snow and ice everywhere?” he said with his best innocent look.

He was rewarded by Dorian’s narrow-eyed look of suspicion and mentally congratulated himself. He had an inkling even now that he wouldn’t be able to verbally best the mage very often so he felt he should take what he could get while he could get it. Especially given that at some point his brain was going to catch up with the fact that Dorian was very attractive and Cullen had never done particularly well around attractive people unless he either wasn’t interested in them at all for whatever reason or they were unpleasant as well as attractive. The unpleasantness usually formed a wonderful and very useful barrier against what they looked like. 

“Ah, of course,” Dorian said with a little glint of amusement in his eyes. “How could I have missed it? And here I thought I was on a beach in Tevinter.”

“You could requisition a cloak,” Cullen said. “All members of the Inquisition are permitted to requisition what they need. Within reason, of course.”

Dorian eyed the uniforms being worn by the soldiers. “And do these cloaks come in orange?”

“I… don’t know. But it’s entirely possible.” Cullen actually didn’t know. He had his own cloak, one he’d bought at the same time he’d acquired the set of armour to replace what he’d worn as a Templar. Josephine had had a hand in his fur mantle, for what reason he didn’t know, but his initial complaints had been dismissed by both Leliana and Cassandra so whatever purpose Josephine had behind her selection was obviously something they were a part of and he probably didn’t _want_ to know. It was warm and that was really all that Cullen cared about.

“Then perish the thought,” Dorian said with a shudder. “Orange is not a good colour on me.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “You’d rather be cold than unfashionable?”

Dorian returned the raised eyebrow, though his was far more imperious. “But of course.”

Cullen honestly couldn’t tell if the man was being serious or not. “Right. So… uh, training area.”

A smirk flickered around Dorian’s lips and Cullen resisted the urge to sigh. He was being teased. It wasn’t the first time and surely wouldn’t be the last. He was competent enough to start these verbal games but that was about all. He very swiftly lost control of them.

“Yes, our good Herald said something about a place nearby.” Dorian looked around and shuddered. “Which would be delightful. Tromping through snow is not my idea of a good time.”

Cullen manfully refrained from asking what Dorian _would_ find to be a good time. Even _he_ knew that was a question that would surely only get him into trouble and leave him blushing and stammering and embarrassed. Instead he gestured towards a place further around from the gates and started walking.

“There’s a clearing not far from here that you might find suitable,” he said. “Cassandra and the Templars in the Inquisition use it when they wish to practice using their abilities without… upsetting the mages.”

He was aware that he had gained a sudden sharp look from Dorian but he ignored it. The man had probably already been told of Cullen’s background and excluding himself from the group using this area would naturally draw questions. In truth, he didn’t know how many of his Templar abilities he still retained, if he retained them at all. There were rumours that their abilities weren’t linked to the usage of lyrium. Rumours that had been stoked by the stories that Warden… now King… Alistair had been using Templar abilities during the battle at Denerim during the Blight but he hadn’t been able to get any clear answers, even from Leliana, who had been there. Cassandra hadn’t known anything either, though the idea intrigued her, probably more than it did Cullen. He could, of course, just try and see but he’d been reluctant thus far. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. He’d left the Templars for a reason, after all.

“I’ll have to avoid the times they’re using it,” Dorian said dryly and Cullen was glad the mage hadn’t pursued the subject. “As curious as I am about the abilities of your southern Templars, I’d rather not experience them.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “At least not without proper preparation and note-taking equipment.”

Cullen looked startled. “You’d… _want_ to experience them? Why?”

“Research, my dear Commander,” Dorian replied, his face lighting up. “Templars in Tevinter are little more than ornamental soldiers. The idea of a Templar being able to thwart a mage is unthinkable.”

“I… suppose,” Cullen said slowly. He’d known things were different in Tevinter but the idea of Templars being so toothless against mages was unnerving. Though he couldn’t say whether it was the idea itself objectively or his own experiences influencing his thinking. Probably the latter.

“But I will be facing them here, won’t I?” Dorian continued, seemingly oblivious to Cullen’s discomfort. “Trevelyan said that the Templars who were at Therinfal Redoubt have all wandered off somewhere and I daresay they won’t be pleased the Inquisition has allied itself with the mages. So I expect I will end up facing them on the battlefield at some point. Best if I know what I’m going to be up against, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, that’s true.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “Would you like me to speak to the Templars and see if any of them are willing to help?”

He got another of those quick sharp looks and he had to force himself not to shy away from it. Maybe he _should_ find out if he still retained his abilities. He didn’t much like the idea of any of the other Templars using their abilities on Dorian. They weren’t _bad_ people. He would never have allowed them to stay if they were but they were more used to Circle mages and Dorian definitely _wasn’t_ a Circle mage. He couldn’t say how they might react to the Tevinter mage’s confidence. And then he had to refrain from wincing at that particular thought and how easily it had come to him. And how true it was.

“That would be delightful, Commander,” Dorian said then, as they came to a halt, he looked around.

The clearing was small but certainly big enough to for the purposes of the Templars and their training and from the expression on Dorian’s face, he found it suitable as well. Cullen watched as the mage walked around the clearing, examining the footing and the surroundings.

“This will be perfect,” Dorian said once his circuit had brought him back to Cullen. He looked very pleased and it was a good look on him.

Cullen smiled. “The Templars and Cassandra usually use it first thing in the morning so you’re welcome to use it at any other time.”

Dorian had been staring at him but he quickly recovered and made Cullen wonder if he’d seen that at all.

“Ugh,” the mage said with a dramatic shudder. “What is it about soldiers and running around and shouting before dawn?”

“We’re morning people,” Cullen replied as blandly as he could manage.

“Morning was only invented to stop afternoon and night from bumping into each other,” Dorian replied tartly.

“You may need to rethink that idea. The Herald is very much a morning person.”

He almost laughed at the horrified look he got in return for that comment.

“He was talking about having me accompany him when he next heads out,” Dorian said, rather aghast.

“You’d better be ready to get up bright and early in the morning,” Cullen said with a chuckle.

Dorian groaned. “Maker save me from _morning people_.”

Cullen couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. He hadn’t laughed much in the last… well, in the last decade really. He hadn’t had much to laugh _about_. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to just talk casually with someone and laugh over nothing. Something unknotted itself in his chest and just like that Dorian went from ‘Tevinter mage – be wary’ to ‘Tevinter mage – not a morning person’.

“Hmph,” Dorian said, pretending to be highly put out. “And I’ll bet you’re one of those wretched morning people as well.”

Cullen smiled wryly. “Sort of. By necessity anyway.” 

Given half a chance, he’d gladly sleep in, curled up under his blankets, cozy and warm. But between the habits ingrained during his time in the Templars, his duties to the Inquisition and his current nightmares, it was always easier to just get up and get moving once dawn came. Or even before dawn came if the nightmares were especially bad.

“Sort of?” Dorian said with a raised eyebrow. He suddenly smirked and _leered_ at Cullen, giving him a wink. “So does that mean that you’ll stay in bed given a… _good reason_?”

Even if Cullen really _had_ been as oblivious as he generally pretended to be, he couldn’t have missed the flirting and innuendo in Dorian’s reply. This was unfortunately also the moment that his brain caught up with the fact that Dorian was very handsome. The end result of that combination was to cause Cullen to blush and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Dorian. His mind was in a whirl and he was momentarily unable to come up with anything to say.

“I, uh… I should get back,” he finally said rather awkwardly, shuffling his feet in the snow.

He didn’t see the expression of surprise and disappointment on Dorian’s face that quickly morphed into realisation and sly amusement. By the time he managed to look at the other man again, Dorian had his expression well and truly under control.

“Of course, Commander,” Dorian said idly, waving a hand in genial dismissal. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Cullen gave Dorian an awkward nod then turned and headed back to his recruits. He couldn’t help but feel heartily annoyed with himself for how he’d handled that. He hoped that Dorian wouldn’t judge him based solely on this one meeting, especially when they’d been getting along so well before that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian finds out that Commander Cullen has some champions and wonders why. These people are weird but interesting. Also Cassandra is a devious but awesome friend.

“Everything went alright with Commander Cullen?”

Dorian looked over at the Herald and made a half-awake grumpy noise, sounding not unlike a disgruntled cat. Trevelyan had hauled them out of bed at dawn and hustled them onto horseback for the trip to the Storm Coast and Dorian still hadn’t forgiven him for that, despite the fair warning he’d been given about Trevelyan’s early morning proclivities. Even the beauty of the sunrise over Haven as they were leaving and the sight of Cullen practising his swordplay without his armour hadn’t made him feel any more charitable towards the early hour.

“Dorian?” Trevelyan looked very much like a worried puppy. “Are you alright?”

“You cannot _possibly_ expect me to be coherent at this hour of the morning,” Dorian complained.

Trevelyan laughed. “Based on that, I think I can.”

Dorian grumbled and shifted in his saddle. “You are awful for making me wake up so early and I hate you.”

Trevelyan just grinned at him and Dorian found himself returning the smile. There was just something about Trevelyan that made it impossible to dislike him. 

“What was your question?” he said with a good but patently false facsimile of impatience.

“How did things go with Commander Cullen? Is the place he mentioned good for you?”

“Oh yes, it’s perfect,” Dorian replied. “And things went swimmingly with the good Commander. He blushes beautifully.”

Trevelyan gave him a startled look that had him worrying just a little but it was the strangled noise from behind that had him turning in his saddle. Cassandra was looking at him with an almost unreadable expression on her face but just for a moment he saw a tiny gleam of almost devilish amusement in her eyes. It was a curious situation all round. He hadn’t thought the Seeker capable of that kind of humour and why it would come at the mention of Commander Cullen blushing was another mystery.

“I… er… you…” 

Trevelyan stumbled to a verbal halt and Dorian raised an eyebrow at him.

“Was there a question in there?”

“Probably not,” Trevelyan said with a rueful smile. “So what did you do to make the Commander blush?”

Dorian didn’t need to look back to know that both Cassandra and Varric had pulled their horses just a little closer and were listening intently. He’d be intimidated but he refused to give in to such a thing from Southerners.

“No idea,” he said airily. “But he seems the blushing type. All that pale skin and blond hair.”

Trevelyan gave him a sharp assessing look and Dorian almost smirked. He’d rather thought there was a decent brain underneath all the puppyish charm Trevelyan waved around so cheerfully. Given what he knew of the Southern Circles and what he’d learned since he’d been here, you couldn’t survive long in them without being at least moderately intelligent.

But when the sharp look changed into something more speculative and hesitant, he became intrigued. It looked like Trevelyan knew something about Cullen and was debating whether or not to say anything.

“He does seem the type,” Varric said in a deceptively bland tone from behind them and that speculative look suddenly vanished.

“You know him from Kirkwall, don’t you?” Trevelyan asked, raising an eyebrow in an oddly significant way at the dwarf.

Varric nodded towards Trevelyan but Dorian noted that the dwarf seemed to be talking more to him than anyone else. 

“We met a few times over the years, back when he was a Templar. He was a little uptight. Didn’t smile much. Still doesn’t really.”

That made Dorian raise an eyebrow. The Commander had smiled at him more than once and with great ease. And what a lovely smile it was, with the scar just adding to the attraction for Dorian and making him want to make Cullen smile even more. In fact, the Commander had not only smiled at him, he’d even laughed. He almost mentioned that to them but at the last moment he decided not to. He couldn’t really say why but he rather liked the idea that _he_ could make that apparently humourless Commander smile and laugh when no one else could.

“So it’s true that he was a Templar?” he asked instead.

“He _was_ ,” Cassandra said with an odd firmness and an even odder emphasis on the past tense. It certainly piqued Dorian’s curiosity even more than it had been. Despite what he’d said to Cullen, he only had a very general idea of the differences between the Templars here and those in Tevinter. He would have to speak to someone about the specificities and see if that could offer an explanation for the undertones that seemed to be running rampant right now.

“No wonder he looked a little pained when the rebel mages marched into Haven,” he said idly. It was a fishing expedition more than anything else. These people seemed oddly invested in how he reacted to Cullen and so he wanted to see how they’d react to this.

And what a reaction it was. Both Cassandra and Trevelyan shifted in their saddles. Trevelyan refused to meet his eyes and Cassandra made a small sound he couldn’t quite define. It was the look on Varric’s face that was the most interesting. He seemed… cynical and sad at the same time. 

“No, no, he’s fine,” Trevelyan said hurriedly. “I spoke to him about it and he’s… he’s fine. With the mages. And… everything.”

Oh ho! Intelligent or not, Trevelyan wasn’t very good at dissimulation without preparation. The Orlesians were going to eat him alive if someone didn’t take him in hand. There was, however, definitely a story there or Dorian would eat his non-existent hat. He was tempted to press for it but Trevelyan was now wearing an expression of fierce determination that told him that whatever had gone on during that conversation was not only significant but that Trevelyan would refuse point blank to tell him about it. Also, judging by the very weighty glare he could suddenly feel on the back of his neck, Cassandra would have something to say about it as well. Cullen certainly had his champions, though why he would need them remained a mystery.

“Yes, I’d rather gathered that from the fact he was willing to assist me in my experimentation,” he said, deliberately leaving the details out to see what the reaction would be.

“Experimentation?” Cassandra sounded suspicious and wary and Dorian almost grinned at her. Only the fact that he was actually just a little intimidated by the Seeker kept him from doing so.

“About what your Southern Templars can actually do.”

Trevelyan goggled at him. “Wait… you _want_ to know?”

“My dear Herald,” Dorian said with what he felt was infinite patience. “Of course I do. I have no idea what they’re capable of and you were the one who told me that the Templars at Therinfal Redoubt had all disappeared. Obviously they’re going to _reappear_ at some point and frankly I’d like to know what I’ll be facing before I actually have to face it.”

“And _Cullen_ offered to assist you?” Cassandra said with deep suspicion. However underlying that suspicion was a hint of interest and hope that Dorian couldn’t quite explain.

“Yes,” he replied blandly. He knew he was being a little bit naughty in not giving the details of that assistance but he was enjoying himself far too much right now.

He was also intrigued. Even more so when Cassandra settled back in her saddle with a look of pleased satisfaction on her face. That expression certainly wasn’t directed at him and the conundrum of Commander Cullen gained a few more questions in his mind.

“But…” Trevelyan was clearly still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of Dorian wanting to subject himself to Templar abilities and had missed the exchange between Dorian and Cassandra. “You know… well, it won’t be pleasant.”

“Then better that I should experience it for the first time in Haven under controlled conditions than out on the battlefield, yes?” He raised his eyebrows at Trevelyan.

“I suppose,” Maxwell said dubiously. “But I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into here.”

“Then I’m sure the Commander will explain in detail when I ask him,” Dorian replied. “I am a researcher at heart, my dear Herald. I like detailed explanations. Very detailed explanations that I can write copious notes about.”

“Well… alright,” Trevelyan said, clearly still of the opinion that Dorian was crazy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra manoeuvres Cullen into a corner. She's really good at it. Also she's way more stubborn than Cullen.

Cullen preferred to read his reports in the War Room whenever possible. It was a damn sight warmer than the tent he used and if he had to write replies, he preferred to have fingers that were actually working and ink that wasn’t half-frozen. Leliana often did the same when she wasn’t meeting with her agents so when the door opened, he assumed that was who it was and didn’t immediately look up.

“You are _assisting_ the Tevinter mage or so I hear.”

His head shot up at Cassandra’s statement, a sentence that had been laced with dry amusement, and he blinked. He’d known the Herald and his party had returned but their next meeting hadn’t been scheduled until the following day to give them time to rest and recover.

“I… er… what?”

Cassandra sauntered up to the war table and crossed her arms. “You have offered to assist the Tevinter mage in his exploration of Templar abilities.”

Cullen gave her a narrow-eyed look, wondering what this was actually all about. “I… offered to speak to the Templars on his behalf and see if any of them are willing to assist him.”

Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “You did not offer your own aid?”

Cullen shifted uncomfortably. “I… haven’t tested that theory about whether or not I can still use those abilities.”

“Why not?” Cassandra asked. “You said that you were going to.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “I’m honestly not sure I want to know.”

Cassandra looked highly unimpressed. “Nonsense. This is important, Cullen.”

“Why?” Cullen frowned. “What does it matter?”

“You don’t think it matters whether a Templar could use his or her abilities _without_ lyrium?” Cassandra said, looking slightly irritated. “If lyrium can become nothing more than something to be used to augment your abilities in a time of crisis then no Templar need become addicted in the first place. It would break the Chantry’s hold entirely.”

It was hard to argue with that idea though Cullen was certainly going to try. Out of stubbornness if not actual sense.

“I don’t see how _I_ could be the one to prove that. I’ve taken lyrium for years. For all we know, any ability I retain to use them could be nothing more than due to the lyrium still in my system.”

“I know,” Cassandra replied. “Which is why you should test this and continue testing it over the next few months. If your ability to use them wanes, then we know lyrium is needed. If it does not, then an opportunity arises for true and welcome change.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “There is no one else who can test this, Cullen.”

Cullen sighed and leaned against the table. She had a point and he knew it. Even if the answer was a negative, it was worth knowing. He just… wanted to move past that part of his life. It wasn’t exactly infused with good memories. As useful as the abilities of a Templar were, he was more than willing to rely solely on his skills as a warrior and nothing more. 

“Perhaps Dorian can help you,” Cassandra said, breaking into his reverie.

He blinked. “What?”

Cassandra’s expression was almost suspiciously neutral. Her tone was too bland. She was definitely up to something, he just wasn’t quite sure what.

“He mentioned he is a good researcher,” she said with an innocence that immediately had him on edge. “And he requires the aid of a Templar. It seems an ideal situation on both sides.”

“I don’t even know if I can use them,” he said warily.

Cassandra’s smile was small but beatific. “Then try. If they still work, you can assist Dorian in his endeavours and I am sure he would be more than willing to help you assess your retention of your skills. If not, you can find a Templar willing to assist him.”

He really felt that he should say no to this idea. The whole thing had the air of a trap though how and why he couldn’t quite tell. Cassandra was a bit too good at concealing her thoughts for him to get a good read of her. But his instincts were yelling at him to back away slowly and then run as fast as he could.

Unfortunately the suggestion she’d made was entirely too logical and sensible for him to really do so. If he did, Cassandra was liable to track him down and drag him to Dorian forcibly. She would surely get Leliana and Josephine to help and they would leave him tongue-tied and convinced it had somehow all been his idea anyway. (Which it kind of was and that only made it worse.) And Leliana was entirely likely to get Trevelyan involved as well with his puppy eyes and mournful looks. All in all, it wouldn’t work out well for him. 

“I… very well,” he said with a sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling he’d been manoeuvred into something beyond the obvious.

“Very good,” Cassandra said with satisfaction and Cullen suddenly felt like he’d been patted on the head like an obedient hound. Maybe it was just the Ferelden in him.

“I take it things went well on the Storm Coast,” he asked, changing the subject _without_ an air of desperation, thank you very much.

“If by well you mean that Dorian complained incessantly about being wet and Varric had numerous things to say about mountains then yes,” she said dryly. Now that she’d gotten what she wanted, she seemed content to let him get away with the diversion. “We established a number of camps and closed the rifts in the area and I believe the Herald intends to return with Blackwall to examine the Warden traces that are supposed to be there.”

Cullen nodded and made a notation on one of his reports. Warden Blackwall had been an excellent addition to the Inquisition. The man was taciturn and secretive but from what little Cullen knew of the Grey Wardens, that was no great surprise. He was also an excellent sparring partner when Cassandra was away with the Herald and he’d struck up something of a tentative friendship with the man.

“I believe he also intends to take the Iron Bull and Sera with him,” Cassandra said.

“That’ll be an interesting combination,” Cullen said with a raised eyebrow. “But it’s probably a good idea to get an idea of how these people are going to work together.”

“And he intends to leave Dorian here this time,” Cassandra continued with a hint of smugness. “Since, and I quote, no one likes a soggy Tevinter. This will give you ample opportunity to begin your experiments with him.”

Cullen gave her a flat look which she calmly ignored. He did wonder precisely who she was quoting because that line could honestly have come from any one of Varric, Dorian or even Trevelyan himself.

“Of course,” he said as blandly as he could manage. 

“Excellent,” Cassandra replied serenely. “On that note, I shall leave you to your reports, Commander.”

She turned and sailed out of the room. Cullen watched her go then leaned against the table and cursed low, fiercely and very inventively. He felt like he’d just fought a battle and lost miserably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's never really been any definitive information about the nature of lyrium and it's relationship to Templar abilities. Mostly because Bioware dun goofed, as far as I can tell. Alistair obviously uses Templar abilities in DA:O but I believe states that he doesn't use lyrium. In DAI, I believe Ser indicates lyrium is necessary for Templars to use their abilities. I believe David Gaider has said that Templar abilities linger for a long time after lyrium usage is stopped, which explains Alistair. In other words, it's a confused mess. So I'm taking the bits that work for my story and running with them. And I'm running fast enough that you can't catch up to correct me! Mwahahaha!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen does what Cassandra wants because he's not stupid. Conveniently enough, a wild Dorian appears. Experimental shenanigans ensue.

The next morning, Cullen waited until the Templars had returned from using the clearing for their training and made his way there himself. He had brought his sword and shield and all of his many misgivings about this particular course of action. However, he knew that if he didn’t try this and, as a result, have some sort of answer for Cassandra, she would continue to push and pick at him until he did it. On the whole, it was probably best to get it over and done with.

He moved into the middle of the clearing and readied himself. His mind was full of memories of the last time he’d used his abilities. It had been after the Chantry explosion. The streets had been full of frightened mages conjuring up demons and turning into abominations, no matter how hard he’d tried to get them to just calm down. The news of Knight-Commander Meredith’s declaration of the Right of Annulment had spread like wildfire and the mages hadn’t been inclined to listen to _anyone_ in Templar armour, least of all – and to his eternal shame – Knight-Captain Cullen. He honestly couldn’t say he blamed them, not then and not now. 

He shook his head and squared his shoulders, pushing those negative thoughts away. He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them and with a move long ago ingrained by practice and use, he moved forward and slammed the bottom edge of his shield onto the ground with a guttural shout. The effects of the Spell Purge swept out in a circle around him, familiar and strong, and his expression turned very grim.

“Well now, isn’t that interesting.”

Cullen whirled around, his eyes wide, and saw Dorian leaning against a tree beyond the edge of the clearing and well clear of the perimeter of the purge. He was dressed in the full Tevinter-style robes he’d arrived in and he had a staff in his hands.

“Dorian!” He swallowed. “I… uh…”

The mage sauntered forward and Cullen was relieved to see that there was no fear or mistrust on Dorian’s face, only intense curiosity.

“You completely left yourself out when you spoke of the Templars,” Dorian said as he continued to close the gap between them. “And the good Seeker was very firm on using the past tense when it came to you being a Templar.” 

He was standing in front of Cullen now and he began to slowly circle around him. Cullen found himself unable to move, transfixed by Dorian’s sharp academic interest.

“Do you know the Templars here absolutely _reek_ of lyrium?” Dorian said casually as he moved around behind Cullen. He leaned forward and breathed in just at the back of Cullen’s neck, sending a shiver through the warrior that did not go unnoticed by either of them. Dorian filed that reaction away in the back of his mind, far too interested in what he’d just seen for the moment. “But _you_ don’t. There is a lingering hint of it around you but you smell of leather and steel and…” His voice suddenly turned teasing. “…and wet dog.”

Cullen broke free of his odd paralysis and shot Dorian an exasperated look. The mage chuckled and looked entirely unrepentant.

“You are quite the conundrum, Commander Cullen,” he said once he’d finished his circle and was facing the other man again.

Cullen sighed and shook his head. “I’m really not.”

“Is that so?” Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Then tell me how you both are and are not a Templar?”

Cullen hesitated for a moment then sighed again. This _was_ what he was here for after all. “I… left the Order when Cassandra recruited me and I stopped taking lyrium.” He saw Dorian’s eyes narrow at that piece of information but he ploughed on. He had no intention of discussing lyrium addiction with Dorian, either in general or specifically. “Cassandra felt it would be useful to know whether I retain the capability to use my Templar abilities and whether that capability will diminish over time as the lyrium works its way out of my system.”

Dorian looked intrigued in an abstract manner that Cullen found oddly comforting in a way he didn’t quite understand. Perhaps it was because Dorian seemed intrigued by the idea, not the man. “Well, I think we can say a big yes to the first question. As for the second, that is an interesting thought.”

Cullen shifted nervously. “Cassandra felt that since you are apparently adept at research, our… respective requirements might coincide.”

“Did she now?” Dorian murmured, a tiny smirk flickering at the edges of his lips. What _was_ the Seeker up to? It couldn’t possibly be what it seemed on the surface because he doubted Cassandra was aware of his… _preferences_. And if ever there was a man who looked likely to settle down on a farm with a wife, four children, six dogs and innumerable other livestock, it was Cullen. The idea that he might settle down with Dorian and perhaps one dog and maybe a cat was ludicrous and why was he even thinking of settling down anyway? With _anyone_? He knew that was nothing more than a vague dream that would never come true.

He straightened and smiled at the Commander. “Well then, let’s not disappoint her, shall we?”

Cullen was frankly a little suspicious at Dorian’s quick agreement and would have given a great deal to know exactly how much Dorian knew about him, not to mention what was going through his mind right now.

“Alright,” he said slowly. “Exactly how much do you know about Templar abilities?”

“Let’s assume I know nothing,” Dorian replied, his expression sharpening into one of keen interest. “Everything I have heard is really just rumour and hearsay or second-hand information at best… a friend of a friend said and that sort of thing… so it’s best just to assume a clean slate and start from there.”

Cullen nodded, relaxing a little at more academic air that Dorian was now exuding. Between his own misgivings crowding his mind and Dorian’s scholarly attitude, he was relieved to find he was able to maintain some professionalism around the other man and not stand around blushing and stumbling and stuttering over his words. 

“Can your Templars use any kind of abilities?”

Dorian shook his head. “No, they’re just soldiers in fancy armour. They _used_ to be like your Southern Templars but that changed long ago. Can’t have mere soldiers putting a stop to mages now, can we?”

“Of course not,” Cullen said dryly and Dorian gave him a quick tight grin in response. “Alright. That makes things a bit easier.”

“So what was that you were trying when I came up?” 

“Spell Purge,” Cullen replied. “It’s similar to a mage’s Dispel in many ways though there are two different levels a Templar can use. The lesser version is the Purge. That just gets rid of all magical effects in the vicinity of the Purge. Any Templar can use that one. They can’t pass out of their apprenticeship without being able to use it. There is a more advanced version called Spell Shatter.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Dorian said dryly.

Cullen managed a wry smile. “It isn’t. Spell Shatter has the same basic effect as the Purge but it’s more powerful.”

“Shatters the spell,” Dorian mused.

Cullen nodded. “It also causes actual damage to the mage beyond any backlash of the spell being shattered. It’s not often used within the Circles unless things have gone very, very wrong but it is used when hunting apostates and blood mages. Within the Circle, Purge is usually all that’s required and only then if a spell or an experiment goes astray.” 

Cullen paused and chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Care to enlighten me as to the joke?” Dorian asked, one eyebrow cocked.

Cullen smiled ruefully. “It’s… not unknown for brand new Templars standing guard in the training rooms to get startled by some apprentice’s stray magic and suddenly Purge the entire room. Drives the senior mages doing the teaching crazy.”

Dorian gave him a wicked grin. “You know, that could almost be a euphemism if you hadn’t been so specific.”

Cullen blushed as much at that grin as the implications in the comment. “It’s been mentioned before. Which is why I was specific.”

Dorian had a distinct air of mischief about him and Cullen wasn’t at all surprised by what came next.

“And did you… startle like that as a brand new Templar?”

“Yes,” he admitted wryly. He knew the joke Dorian was trying to make and for once he didn’t mind poking fun at himself. It was a memory of a time when things were still good. “An apprentice lost control of a fireball. His teacher wasn’t very unimpressed with me. Something about trying to teach the apprentice how to regain control of a haywire spell. The Knight-Commander was more amused than anything else when I reported to him after my shift.”

“I can understand the teacher’s frustration,” Dorian said with a laugh. “Learning how to regain control of spells is not the easiest thing to teach. Or learn, for that matter.” He glanced around the clearing. “So, shall we try the purge? I’ll put up a barrier around myself. That should be more than sufficient for the test, I’d say.”

“I…” Cullen paused and frowned. “Are you sure you want to do this? Spell Purge doesn’t hurt… or so I’ve been told… but it is unpleasant.”

“Do you think your former colleagues will care for how I feel?” Dorian asked with a raised eyebrow.

Cullen winced and shook his head. Despite Cassandra’s increasingly exasperated comments, he _did_ take the failings of the Templar Order to heart. He’d once believed very strongly in the true ideal of the Order and had tried to live up to it. Then Uldred had happened and Kirkwall and… despite his disillusionment, he still _wanted_ the Order to be what he’d once thought it was. Foolish of him perhaps, especially given recent events, but apparently his youthful idealism wasn’t entirely dead.

“I suppose not,” he said heavily then he hefted his shield. “Alright then. If you’re sure.”

“Of course I am,” Dorian said as he took a few steps back. 

A moment later a barrier sprung into life around Dorian. Cullen could feel it in much the same way he had when he’d been a Templar. It was as though using his abilities had woken that part of him again. He dismissed the thought then went through the motions again to use the Purge. The wave of power flowed out from him again and Dorian’s barrier winked out of existence and the mage staggered slightly, shaking his head and catching his balance with his staff.

“Are you alright?” Cullen asked, sheathing his sword and hurrying over to catch Dorian’s arm.

Dorian shook his head again as though clearing it then gave a small huff. “Yes, though that was certainly a singular experience.”

“You’re not hurt?”

Dorian looked amused. “If I was hurt, you would certainly know it, Commander. I am not one to keep my injuries to myself.” His expression became far more contemplative. “How strong was that compared to normal?”

“Normal for me or for Templars in general?” Cullen asked, still not looking entirely convinced that Dorian was fine. He hadn’t let go of the other man’s arm and Dorian wasn’t overly inclined to point that out to him.

“Both.”

Cullen frowned. “That’s… about normal for me. It’s been a few months since I last did that but it doesn’t seem diminished at all. As for other Templars… that’s hard to say but I was one of the stronger Templars both at Kinloch and Kirkwall.”

“So in terms of general Templar ability, that would be at the upper end of the scale?”

“Yes, I’d say so,” Cullen said with a nod.

“Excellent.” Dorian raised an eyebrow at him. “How much magic can a single purge nullify? It certainly took care of my barrier rather handily, though I’ll admit barriers aren’t my forte.”

Cullen frowned in thought. “A fair amount but I don’t think anyone has ever tried to quantify it.”

“All these Templars and mages and no one has ever tried to properly examine your abilities?” Dorian said with surprise then he rolled his eyes. “Ah yes, of course. The Southern fear of mages and magic, no doubt. You do know magic becomes far less frightening if you actually know what it can and can’t do?”

Cullen’s first kneejerk reaction was to frown and open his mouth to deny that but his brain caught up before he could say anything particularly stupid and he closed his mouth again. In truth, for all that he’d served in two Circles, up to and including standing watch during the apprentices’ classes, he really didn’t have much of an understanding of magic. He probably knew more than the average person but… he’d mostly zoned out when magic was being explained. Nearly every Templar he’d ever known had done the same. Their job had been to watch and monitor the mages, not pay attention to what was being said. More fool them, now that he actually thought about it.

“You… have a point,” he said slowly. 

“Of course I have a point. I _always_ have a point,” Dorian drawled, his exasperation plain. “What do you all do? Sit in your Circles and never talk to each other?”

Cullen shifted awkwardly and looked away from the other man. “I… yes,” he said quietly, feeling a sense of shame weigh his shoulders down yet again.

Dorian frowned at the sudden change in mood from the Commander. He looked like a puppy that Dorian had scolded and then kicked for good measure. It made something inside him scrunch up and he wanted to start saying the most outrageous things to get the man to smile again. Then he reminded himself that he wasn’t fourteen anymore and he was certainly not going to develop a stupid crush on yet another unattainable man. He’d done that more than once before and it never worked out well, especially not for him.

“Well, then,” he said, perhaps a little too heartily but as it seemed to snap Cullen out of whatever mood had been darkening his expression, he wasn’t going to worry too much about it. “I always do like being the first to do something.” He tapped his chin with one finger. “Hmm, let’s do a little more experimentation and then I’d like to take some notes, if you have the time to indulge me?”

Cullen straightened and squared his shoulders, shoving away the unpleasant thoughts that had been crowding through his mind. “Uh, the experimentation, yes, but can the notes wait until this evening? I have duties I can’t avoid today.”

“Of course,” Dorian said. He took a few steps back and raised his staff. “Alright. I’m going to cast a few more spells. Let’s see how much that Purge of yours can deal with.”

Cullen nodded and got ready. In spite of everything, he actually found he was interested in what Dorian would discover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now we've caught up to what I've already written so ensuing chapters will probably come a little slower than they have been.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War room meetings and the headbutting of two stubborn people.

Cullen grounded his sword and leaned against it, letting Dorian’s enthusiastic babble wash over him. The mage had long ago descended into technical magical terms that made little sense to him but the sound of Dorian’s voice was soothing to his jangled nerves. Between discovering that his abilities seemed little diminished even after not taking lyrium for some weeks and being constantly worried that he was going to hurt Dorian, he was feeling rather tightly wound and decidedly jittery.

“Commander?”

Dorian’s voice or more specifically the open concern in said voice broke through the turmoil in his mind and he swallowed hard before looking up.

“I… I’m sorry, Dorian. I didn’t hear what you said. I was miles away.”

“I should feel offended that you weren’t paying rapt attention to my every word,” Dorian said lightly but still with concern. “But you rather look like you’re about to throw up.”

Cullen shook his head. “I… no, I’m fine.” His brow furrowed with concern. “Are you?”

Dorian huffed and rolled his eyes. “My dear Commander, I believe I told you that if I was hurt, you would most certainly know about it.” He gave a small laugh. “I confess I feel a little like I’ve been riding a wild horse for an hour or two _without_ a saddle but I can assure you I am entirely unharmed.”

Cullen straightened and sheathed his sword. “I… good. That’s good.”

“But you still look like you’re going to vomit.” Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Are you? Because if you are, I’d like some warning so I can back away. I rather like these boots.”

Cullen shook his head and slung his shield over his shoulder. “No,” he said with a faint smile. “I’m not, I promise. I’m just…” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“A Templar who doesn’t like using his abilities,” Dorian said idly. “How curious.”

“I’m not a Templar anymore,” Cullen snapped then he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Dorian waved a hand. “Oh, pish. You don’t think I’m going to take offence at a comment made out of…” He eyed Cullen speculatively. “…weariness and discontent, do you? I’m even going to be magnanimous and not ask _why_ you’re feeling discontented and perhaps even a little distraught.”

Cullen shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that Dorian seemed to be able to read him so easily. It made him wonder what else Dorian had figured out about him and that was not a comforting thought in the slightest. Or maybe it was? Maybe it would be easier if Dorian could figure out all those things he always struggled to find the words for.

“I, uh… thank you,” he said awkwardly as he sheathed his sword. He glanced up to judge the position of the sun in the sky and grimaced. “I… have to go. We have a meeting scheduled in the War Room.”

“War Room. Very dramatic,” Dorian said dryly then he waved a hand. “By all means, Commander, no need to wait on me. You will remember that I need to make notes and I’d like to ask you some questions later?”

“Of course,” Cullen said before turning and striding off. He took a moment to return his shield to his tent before slowing as he made his way to the Chantry. He wanted to regain a bit more of his equilibrium before he walked into the War Room and faced everyone. Trevelyan might not pick up on his disquiet but Leliana and Josephine in particular would pick up on it immediately and he wasn’t in the mood for their constant glances and any potential questions.

He couldn’t even really say _why_ he felt so discontented. He retained his abilities. That probably wasn’t much of a surprise if he took into account the stories about King Alistair during the battle in Denerim. How long he would retain them was something he would find out. Maybe it was the associations that came with the abilities. Maybe he was just being an idiot. Any one of those was a good candidate.

He was the last to arrive at the War Room and when he walked in, everyone looked over at him. Trevelyan nodded and immediately returned his attention to the map on the table but Cullen found himself on the end of three piercing looks from the women that seemed to strip him bare in an instant. Leliana and Josephine simply looked curious but Cassandra arched an eyebrow at him. Cullen shook his head at her and took his place at the table.

“Now that everyone’s here,” Trevelyan said, tapping the map with one finger. “I think the missing troops in the Fallow Mire have to be a priority.”

Cullen wrapped his professionalism around him as though it was a protective cloak and leaned forward. “I can’t say I disagree. I don’t like the idea of leaving them in the hands of these Avvar tribesmen.”

“I agree,” Cassandra said followed closely by Leliana’s, “As do I.”

Josephine sighed. “They have ignored every overture we have made so it is out of my hands. I cannot negotiate with people who refuse to speak to us.”

“Very inconvenient of them really,” Trevelyan said with a quick grin at the Ambassador.

Even Josephine had been charmed by the Herald and she smiled back. “Indeed.”

“Who do you intend to take?” Leliana asked.

Trevelyan straightened up and grimaced. “I’d like to take Dorian because frankly I haven’t had enough time to pick his brain about magic and he knows a hell of a lot more than I do. Or at least he knows different things.” He grinned. “But frankly, as much as I like him, if I have to listen to him complain endlessly about the mud and muck, I may bonk him on the head. Gently, of course. The Storm Coast was bad enough.”

Cassandra snorted and rolled her eyes. “If you didn’t hit him on the head, I certainly would. Probably less than gently.”

“He is pretty though,” Leliana said with sly amusement. “Who would really want to get mud and muck all over that?”

“Don’t you start,” Cassandra said with exasperation.

Leliana laughed and elbowed the Seeker gently. Cassandra scowled then relaxed into a small smile. The camaraderie between the two women was subtle but plain to see in situations like this.

Trevelyan had watched the byplay with a smile and now he looked at Cassandra hopefully. “So does this mean I can drag you out into the Mire?”

“Of course,” Cassandra replied.

Trevelyan beamed and Leliana smothered a snicker that had the Seeker shooting her a glare. Cullen was also forced to smother a smile which helped get rid of his strange feelings of consternation raised by the discussion of Dorian. It seemed Trevelyan’s interest in Cassandra remained unabated. Only Josephine was able to maintain a diplomat’s neutral expression, though the gleam in her eyes told a different story.

“That’s great,” Trevelyan said. “So you, Solas and… Varric, I think. I suspect Madame de Fer would have many, many, _many_ things to say about being hauled through the Fallow Mire and as much as I want to see how Sera works with us, I’m not sure combining her with Solas is going to be a good idea.”

“You may have to at some point,” Cullen said.

Trevelyan grimaced. “I know but I’d rather burn that bridge when and if I get to it. I think Sera will work better with people like Blackwall and Bull who can take her personality in their stride. I’d rather keep any antagonism to a minimum this early on.”

“Probably wise,” Josephine said

With that, the matter was considered decided and they moved onto the other things that needed their attention. 

An hour later, Cullen was heartily glad to finish the meeting and he leaned against the table as Trevelyan, Leliana and Josephine left the room. He wasn’t overly surprised when Cassandra remained.

“Are you well?” Cassandra asked, moving around the table. “Is it…?”

Cullen shook his head. “No, the… the withdrawal is manageable at the moment.”

“Then what?”

He sighed. “I… I did what you wanted this morning.”

“And?” Cassandra asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They’re still there and seemingly unchanged.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “And… Dorian arrived just as I started.”

“So the active use of lyrium is not required,” Cassandra said with some satisfaction. “It has been some weeks since you last took any. This is good news, Cullen.”

Cullen grimaced. “How?”

Cassandra made an impatient noise. “You are not usually so obtuse. Why are you being so stubborn on this issue?”

Cullen frowned and started pacing. “I’m not being obtuse. I just don’t see what good it’s going to do.”

“You know far better than I do that it takes more than one dose of lyrium to form the addiction,” Cassandra said with some irritation. “If a Templar need only take a single dose of lyrium every few weeks or even every few months then the Order need no longer be chained to the Chantry.”

“That doesn’t help any of the Templars now,” Cullen replied with an almost equal amount of irritation. “They’re already addicted and even if they were to stop, you and I both know the risks. I’ve… been able to manage so far but there’s still no guarantee this isn’t going to kill me or drive me mad.”

“I know,” Cassandra snapped. “We cannot change what has happened in the past. We can only try and make things better in the future.” She waved a hand towards the map and the village of Haven. “That is what we are here for, is it not? To make things better?”

Cullen growled under his breath, unable to articulate his way through the morass of emotions swirling through his head. In fact, he wasn’t even sure of how many of them were valid complaints and how many were his own worries, insecurities and failings making him doubt himself and what he was doing. He rubbed his forehead and rested both hands on the table.

“Cullen,” Cassandra said, her tone softening. “I know this cannot be easy. You had good reason for leaving the Templars and taking this path and if there was anyone else I could ask to do this, I would.”

Cullen sighed. “I know,” he said heavily. “I just… worry that I’m going to hurt Dorian doing this.”

Cassandra arched an eyebrow. “You were well trained, were you not? All of the reports I have read say that your control of your abilities was excellent.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t make a mistake,” Cullen said flatly.

“No,” Cassandra said. “But it does mean that you are _unlikely_ to make a mistake.” She arched an eyebrow. “Has Dorian had any complaints?”

“No,” Cullen admitted. “Other than the one about why this sort of research has never been done before.”

Cassandra considered that. “You have not told him about the lyrium?”

“No. Well, I’ve told him I’m not taking it anymore obviously but not about… about the withdrawal. I don’t know how much he knows about that. He admitted his knowledge of our Templars comes mostly from hearsay and rumour.”

“ _Will_ you tell him of it?”

Cullen hesitated. “I don’t see why it would be necessary.”

“You don’t?” Cassandra sighed and shook her head, her exasperation returning. “Cullen, it is not a weakness to admit to what you are doing and Dorian may well be able to help. We do not know the extent of knowledge they have in Tevinter. He may know how to alleviate some of the symptoms.”

Cullen winced a little at the expression on Cassandra’s face, knowing that he risked this becoming yet another thing she would hold over his head and poke at him about until he gave in and agreed with her.

“I… I’ll think about it.”

The Seeker rolled her eyes. “I suppose I will have to be satisfied with that.” She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “For now.”

Cullen was suddenly rather thankful she was heading off to the Fallowmire. He’d have some respite from her concerned nagging. He immediately winced and mentally retracted that statement. It wasn’t nagging. Well, it _was_ but it came from Cassandra’s particular brand of stern care and concern. She wasn’t the sort to carefully wend and wind her way around topics like Leliana and Josephine might, each in their different ways. No, Cassandra’s concern manifested in straightforward verbal poking and prodding and demands for explanations and justifications as to why you weren’t carrying out her eminently sensible expectations. As much as it frustrated and irritated him at times, he knew he responded better to that sort of concern than he would have to anything offered by Josephine or Leliana, who he was sure would have been equally willing to help had he asked them. But he didn’t need riddles or to be coddled, he _needed_ to poked and prodded.

“You should be more concerned about what Trevelyan is going to do next to _woo_ you,” he grumbled.

Cassandra shot him a scorching glare. “Do not start.”

A smirk tugged at Cullen’s mouth. He had to admit that Trevelyan’s pursuit of Cassandra was rather funny. Or rather, it wasn’t so much the pursuit that was funny but Cassandra’s reaction to it. 

“Is it because he’s young and a little sheltered?” he asked with as much innocence as he could muster.

“He can hardly mean it,” Cassandra snapped but it was the expression of uncertainty and a sort of haunted doubt that had Cullen sobering. 

“I’m pretty sure he does.” Cullen shrugged when she glared at him. “He told me he thought you were amazing and he admitted to me he was flirting.”

Cassandra abruptly turned away from him but not before he caught the wide-eyed look of hesitant wonder on her face. He saw her shoulders rise and she took a deep breath and she turned back, she looked no different from normal.

“It is of no matter,” she said brusquely, her chin rising. “He is young and inexperienced and we have many more things to do than waste time with such trivialities.”

Cullen had two sisters and though he’d left his family at thirteen to become a Templar, he still recognised the signs of when the time had come for the teasing to stop. Especially as Cassandra was capable of dishing out far more in the way of retribution than Mia and Rosalie had been when he was a boy. Still…

“I’m not sure being happy could ever be considered trivial, especially in times like this.”

Cassandra glared at him again. “I shall take your words under advisement,” she said rather sarcastically before pinning him with a look. “And perhaps you should take your own advice.”

She headed for the door and was gone before Cullen could ask what she had meant by that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All work and no rest gives Cullen a headache. Dorian assists.

Cullen slowed as he approached the cabin near Adan’s apothecary that had been assigned to Dorian. It had been a long day and he had been tempted to beg off this obligation but he had made a promise and he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with Dorian or let him think that he didn’t think this was important. But he was tired and his head was aching. He couldn’t tell if the headache was from the long day or the withdrawal or a combination of the two and he supposed it didn’t really matter. 

He knocked on the door of the cabin and tried not give in to the temptation to lean against the wall. He suspected if he did, he might not be able to straighten up again. He could see Adan busily preparing potions through the windows of the apothecary and behind him, he heard the door to Solas’ cabin open and close, though he didn’t look to see whether the elven apostate was leaving or returning. He appreciated the assistance Solas was giving to the Inquisition but there was just something about the elven mage that unsettled him.

The door to the cabin opened and a wave of warmth flowed over him, making his knees buckle momentarily. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been truly warm. Some time back in Kirkwall most likely. He’d certainly been cold ever since well before he’d set foot in Haven and his tent had hardly altered any of that. He’d been offered a room in the Chantry but he’d turned it down for many reasons.

“Ah, Commander, your timing is excellent,” Dorian said, stepping back and gesturing for Cullen to enter.

Cullen walked in to find the entire cabin was deliciously warm and he felt himself relax as the heat seeped into his muscles. He also noticed that the nearby table was laden with food, a bottle of wine and two goblets as well as a mass of papers, inkwells and pens.

“I heard you were in meetings and then smashing bits of metal against other bits of metal all afternoon so I thought we could eat while I picked your brain,” Dorian said lightly when he saw the direction of Cullen’s gaze.

As much as the heat was making Cullen’s muscles relax, it seemed to having the opposite effect on his headache. The pounding had now worsened until he could barely see past it.

“I… uh, that sounds… good,” he said, his voice sounding faint and shaky to his ears.

It must have sounded the same to Dorian as the mage almost materialised at his side and guided him to a chair.

“Are you alright, Commander?”

Cullen buried his face in his hands as his head throbbed. He wanted to grab at his hair but experience had taught him that would only make things worse if this was caused by the withdrawal.

“Uh… headache,” he managed to force out in a reasonably articulate manner.

There was a moment of silence from the man beside him. “Ah,” was all Dorian said before he stepped away.

Cullen wanted to wince, would have if his eyes were open. He hadn’t wanted to appear this weak in front of Dorian or to force his burdens on anyone else’s shoulders. He was so deep in his self-recriminations, he didn’t notice that the temperature in the room had dropped considerably but he _did_ notice when the delicious coolness bloomed on the back of his neck. It took him a few minutes to come back to himself enough to realise it was Dorian’s hand and the coolness came from magic. 

Part of him – that part that was still trapped behind the magical barrier at the foot of the Harrowing Chamber in Kinloch Hold as the demons and abominations taunted and tormented him – wanted to reel away, to lash out at the magic and the mage using it but that part was overwhelmed by the rest of him which was blissfully revelling in the cold and the way it made the pain in his head recede at least a little. And when the second cold, cold hand was placed on his forehead, he couldn’t help the small pleased whimper that escaped him as he leaned into the touch. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, letting the cold chase away the headache until it reached a manageable level, but inevitably it did recede enough to allow him to think again and look back on what had just happened. He raised his head, embarrassment staining his cheeks red, and as he did, Dorian’s hands dropped away.

“I… I apologise,” he said, unable to quite meet Dorian’s eyes. “I didn’t mean…”

“To be overwhelmed by a withdrawal headache,” the mage said dryly. “Why, Commander, does that mean you can conjure them on cue? Do tell us your secret.”

“I… no,” Cullen said before sighing and rubbing his forehead. He then ran his hand down his face. “I didn’t think it would be that bad. It’s… been lingering most of the afternoon but not unbearably so.” Then the full import of what Dorian had said sunk in. “You… know about the withdrawal?”

Dorian rolled his eyes and took the seat opposite Cullen’s. “You told me yourself you’d stopped taking lyrium. I may not know much about southern Templars but I do know a bit about lyrium. How long has it been?”

Cullen hesitated and Dorian gave a huff. “I do not intend to broadcast it around Haven, Commander. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said with a grimace. “I don’t mean…” He sighed. “If you know anything of lyrium addiction then you know the dangers of withdrawal. I don’t want…” He shook his head. “What will happen, will happen and until then I will give my best to the Inquisition.”

“How very noble and dramatic,” Dorian said dryly. “Yes, I am aware of the dangers of lyrium withdrawal and no, there is no magic fix in the Imperium. There are however ways of alleviating the symptoms a little. It’s so much easier to avoid death or madness when one isn’t collapsing every five minutes and working oneself into the ground.”

Cullen gritted his teeth against the immediate snarling reply he wanted to make to the sarcasm and diffidence in Dorian’s reply. He was tired and his head, while not as bad as it had been, was still aching and those things combined tended to make the fuse on his temper both short and slightly irrational. Somewhere in the middle of Dorian’s reply had been an offer of help and when he glanced up and registered the expression on the mage’s face, he realised it was an offer that he wasn’t expecting to be accepted, no doubt why it had been made with such diffidence.

While Cullen was loathe to take resources away from the Inquisition that might be used on those in more need than himself, he also didn’t want to… disappoint Dorian. He wasn’t quite sure that was the word but he couldn’t think of a better one. Dorian was expecting him to say no, seemed almost resigned to it, most likely because he didn’t expect anyone to want help from the _evil Tevinter magister_. But the work they had done today, the fact that Dorian was willing to trust a Templar? It made Cullen want to trust him in return.

“If there is anything that can help, I… I will accept,” he said wearily, scrubbing his face with one hand. “I’ve tried elfroot tea but it only puts the slightest dent in the pain when it’s at its worst.”

He looked up and saw the faint hint of surprise and gratification on Dorian’s face and knew he’d made the right decision. His feelings about magic and mages were mixed at best but there was something about Dorian that seemed to evade all the normal wariness and defences in his mind. He wasn’t sure what it was but he felt inclined to trust it.

“You need something a little stronger than elfroot tea, Commander,” Dorian said with an air of smug pleasure that almost made Cullen smile. “If you can bear through it all tonight, I shall venture into Adan’s lair tomorrow morning and make you something a little more effective.”

“I’ve managed so far,” Cullen replied with a shrug.

Dorian gave him a look that expressed his opinion about that quite plainly then he reached over and poured the wine, offering a goblet to Cullen.

“Here, drink this.” 

Once Cullen took the goblet, Dorian began placing food on plates. It wasn’t anything heavy, Cullen noted. Fruit, bread, cheese, all light things that could be safely eaten around paper without risking getting things too messy. But in light of how he felt right now, it was far preferable to a heavier meal.

Dorian placed a plate in front of him and arched an eyebrow at him until he started eating. He ate slowly at first, not entirely sure whether the food was likely to make a sudden reappearance, but soon his stomach decided it was hungry and he quickly finished everything on his plate As he did, he found his headache easing a little more so he was forced to conclude that at least some of it was due to his own self-neglect.

He looked over at Dorian, who was eating far more slowly and casually. “Did you still want to ask your questions?”

“Are you sure you’re up to it, Commander?” the mage said with an arched eyebrow.

“I’ve done more in worse condition.”

Dorian snorted. “Just because you _have_ done so in the past doesn’t mean you _should_ do so now,” he said tartly.

“Maybe,” Cullen said with a wry smile. “But I’m here and answering questions isn’t as onerous as fighting a pitched battle in full plate armour.”

Dorian looked sceptical but he relented. “The temperature is better now?”

Cullen blinked as he realised for the first time that the overwhelming warmth in the cabin had settled into something a bit cooler, certainly something his head appreciated more.

“Yes, thank you.” He frowned as he looked around. There was a fireplace but that was not the source of the heat he’d felt when he’d first arrived. “You’re… using magic?”

“What else?” Dorian looked amused then he shrugged. “I won’t keep the spell going all night but I refuse to freeze every hour of the day.”

Cullen felt a little nonplussed. He hadn’t ever known a mage to use magic so profligately but then Dorian wasn’t like any mage he’d met before. He realised that every time he’d been with Dorian today, he’d been waiting for his usual reaction to magic and mages, tensing and waiting for the feelings of panic and wariness to wash over him. They’d never come. Not when Dorian had appeared in the clearing this morning and not now as he sat in the midst of Dorian’s magic. He hadn’t felt this comfortable in the presence of a mage in… well, in over a decade.

It was this, this strange feeling of comfort, that prompted his reply. “A pity I can’t do that on my tent.”

“Why is the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces camping in a _tent_?” 

Dorian looked outraged on his behalf and Cullen couldn’t help the rather fond chuckle that escaped him.

“Because that’s what my people are sleeping in.”

“They would hardly begrudge their Commander better quarters,” Dorian replied indignantly.

“Maybe they wouldn’t,” Cullen replied. “But the fact I’m sharing the same accommodation as they are means that while I command them, I don’t consider myself above them.” He frowned. “I’m not sure I explained that well.”

“Oh, it made sense,” Dorian said with a snort. “I think it’s ridiculous but it did make sense.”

“Maybe it is ridiculous but it’s what I prefer.”

Dorian looked like he wanted to say something more but he reigned himself in and pulled a small pile of paper over. It was filled with neatly written notes and he looked them over for a moment.

“Well, since you’re willing, shall we begin?”

Cullen pulled his chair a little closer and sipped at his wine. “Fire away.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of point of view in which we find out what Cassandra is up to courtesy of Maxwell's blundering curiosity.

Maxwell Trevelyan sat down at the camp at the halfway point through the Fallow Mire and sighed. Their progress had been slower than he’d anticipated. It was wet, muddy, mucky and the stench was indescribable but worse had been when Varric had taken a bad turn after slipping in the muck and fallen into the water. The emergence of the corpses had been an unpleasant addition to an already awful day. It was late afternoon now and as much as he wanted to push on, he knew they were going to have to stop for the night. He hated having to leave the Inquisition’s soldiers in the hands of the Avvar for any longer than he had to but… circumstances had conspired against his good intentions.

“The healer says Varric will be fine,” Cassandra said as she sat down beside him. “He, on the other hand, is bemoaning the potential loss of a good coat.”

Maxwell snorted. “I’m just glad he’s not hurt. The coat can be replaced.”

“It is mere bluster,” Cassandra replied with a wave of her hand. “He is shaken by what happened.”

“He’s not the only one.” Maxwell looked over at the water near the camp. Somewhere under that smooth calm surface were more corpses, ready to rise and attack them. “You told the soldiers about the water?”

“They already knew and were being cautious.”

“Tell me again why we’re interested in this place beyond retrieving our people?” Maxwell grumbled.

“It is a useful passage to the Frostbacks.”

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. “Given the corpses crawling out of the water, that’s an interesting definition of ‘useful’.”

Cassandra gave him an unimpressed look in return. “They will be able to avoid the worst of the Mire. We are only venturing so far in because of the Avvar.”

Maxwell sighed and rubbed his cheek. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be grouchy. I didn’t think it would be this dangerous. I thought we’d be able to get in and out much quicker and not have to spend the night.”

“These things often do not go as expected,” Cassandra replied, her tone softening a little. “We can only deal with what is presented to us. We have made good time and that odd Avvar we met seemed confident that our people had not been harmed and will not be harmed as long as we continue to make our way to where the other Avvar are located.”

“You’re right,” Maxwell said with a sigh. “Sorry. I’m not very good at this. I was never angling for the First Enchanter’s job in the Circle. Responsibility was never my strong suit.”

Cassandra patted him on the shoulder a little awkwardly. “You are doing well. The Inquisition is gaining a good name from your actions.”

Maxwell blushed and tried not to squirm under both Cassandra’s touch and praise. He didn’t want to come across as a complete idiot. He wanted to impress this woman but he was never quite sure how to do so.

“Cassandra?” he said as something else beyond his admiration for the Seeker came to mind.

“Yes?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

He hesitated for a moment, not quite sure how to properly word the question he wanted to ask then finally decided to just plough on.

“Why are you shoving Cullen and Dorian together?”

She gave him an imperious look in return but he squared his shoulders and simply returned the look.

“I am not _shoving them together_ ,” she said with a hint of distaste for his wording. “Dorian is able to assist Cullen in something he has been promising that he would do. There is no ulterior motive.”

“Really?” Maxwell said dubiously.

Cassandra sighed. “There is only a small ulterior motive. I do not know Dorian well but from what I observed when we travelled on the Storm Coast, he _may_ be the kind of person who can draw Cullen out.” She grimaced. “Cullen isolates himself for various reasons, most of which are foolish. Trying to convince him otherwise is an exercise in futility much of the time and I do not possess the skill to do so more subtly. Take the wrong tack and Cullen will dig in his heels just because he can. Dorian may well have the subtlety and verbal skills to do what I cannot.”

“I didn’t realise he isolated himself like that,” Maxwell said with a frown. “I know he doesn’t often eat with us or come to the tavern but I thought…”

“He spends much of his free time alone or working.” Cassandra scoffed. “It is not good for him.”

Maxwell smiled a little. “You worry about him.”

“I do not!” Cassandra said haughtily then she sighed. “Life has not always been kind to him and nor has he always been kind in return but he is a good man. He is remembering that but the path is not easy for him.”

“So you think he and Dorian can be friends?”

“I think it is possible.” Cassandra raised one shoulder in a shrug. “Much will depend on how willing Cullen is to let someone close and how persistent Dorian is prepared to be. This little… project of Cullen’s will help.”

Maxwell felt a moment of irrational jealousy towards Cullen that he quickly dismissed. He didn’t know much about how Cassandra and Cullen had become friends and it was pretty obvious they were friends in their own unique way. It was stupid for him to be jealous especially as he knew Cullen wasn’t interested in Cassandra in that way. The man had told him so himself. It was just that Cassandra seemed so impervious to anything and everything he tried and yet here she was going out of her way to help Cullen.

“You’re not worried about… well, about Cullen’s past and how that might make him act with Dorian?” He asked without really thinking about what he was saying.

Cassandra fixed him with a glare that had him actually flinching and it took all he had not to shuffle away from her.

“How do you know of that?” she demanded, her voice like steel.

“He told me!” Maxwell squeaked. “I mean… not everything. Not much at all really but I… I’d heard a little bit about what happened in the Fereldan Circle. I mean, overheard. I accidentally eavesdropped on some Senior Enchanters who were talking about it when I was an apprentice but I didn’t know it was Cullen until we talked after I recruited the mages and he told me… well, he didn’t tell me much at all really…”

Maxwell cut off his babbling and sighed, swiping a hand down his face. “Aaand I’m just going to go and throw myself into the water because facing half a hundred reanimated corpses sounds really great right now.”

He heard Cassandra make an exasperated and slightly irritated noise and wondered if he could use the mark on his hand to open up a rift right here and now. Jumping into the Fade sounded a lot better than facing Cassandra’s wrath over his stupidity. Why did he always have to blurt things out without _thinking_ first?

“Do you really think that little of Commander Cullen?”

The question was calm and quiet but there was a pointed element about it that had Maxwell hanging his head and feeling a sense of shame. Cullen had always been polite and considerate outside the War Room, never viewing this strange mage with an even stranger mark on his hand with suspicion. Yes, he’d been blunt about his preference for recruiting the Templars and he’d been equally blunt about expressing his reservations after Maxwell had recruited the mages but he’d also accepted the decision with grace and simply gone about making sure everything would be ready and that both the people of Haven and the mages would be safe.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice.

“I know it is easy for mages to be suspicious of Templars and not without cause,” Cassandra said evenly.

“No!” Maxwell shot her a look of apology for interrupting. “No, it’s not that. That conversation I overheard about the Fereldan Circle? They were talking about what the mages did. It was horrible. And Cullen was there. He’s seen the worst of us. Been subjected to the worst of us. I was just… worried.” He gave Cassandra an earnest look. “I like Commander Cullen. I really do. And I respect him. But you can’t go through something like that and not be affected by it. I guess I’m just worried not only for Dorian’s sake but for Cullen’s sake as well. I don’t know the man well but I think he’d take it very badly if he did something to Dorian by accident because Dorian startled him or something.”

He somehow managed to maintain eye contact with Cassandra and not squirm like a nervous schoolboy as she gave him a very long considering look. Finally she sighed and nodded.

“You are not wrong about that,” she conceded. “He would take all the blame onto his shoulders and leave none for anyone else. However, you are discounting Dorian in all of this. He is an intelligent man and far better than you or I at reading people’s emotions and motivations. I have spoken to Josephine and Leliana and they have told me what they know of the Imperium. They play a far more deadly version of the Great Game there.” Cassandra’s expression indicated what she thought of the Game in general. “Dorian has survived that. I believe he can handle Cullen.”

“Oh. I didn’t think about that,” Maxwell said, feeling a little nonplussed and a lot stupid.

“I would not have… _shoved them together_ …” Maxwell managed a wan smile at her dry emphasis of his earlier words. “…if I thought either of them were likely to harm the other. Our situation in Haven is too precarious to deliberately foster such trouble. It would only encourage people like Roderick to sow further dissension.”

Maxwell sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, if you ever wanted an example of how terrible I am at all of this, I think this conversation was it.”

“If you had concerns then it was only right that you speak of them,” Cassandra replied with a patience Maxwell wasn’t sure he deserved. “I am simply pleased that you spoke to me and not Dorian or Cullen.” She hesitated for a moment. “Herald… Maxwell… we are here to help you but we cannot do so if you do not ask us for that help. We do not know what you need to learn unless you tell us.”

“You mean I can ask?” Maxwell’s eyes were wide and then he sighed and slumped where he was sitting. “Maker, I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”

Cassandra made a sound he could have sworn was a chuckle but when he looked over at her, she seemed perfectly calm.

“You sound _inexperienced_ ,” she said. “Not stupid.”

“They don’t exactly run ‘how to be the Herald of Andraste’ courses in the Circle,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. He held up his marked hand. “This wasn’t exactly my idea.”

“I know,” Cassandra said. “And you are doing a good job. We can ask no more than that.”

Maxwell was about to reply but at that moment Varric and Solas joined them. The dwarf looked disgruntled and still a little wild around the eyes. Maxwell couldn’t blame him. When Varric had fallen into the water, a corpse had risen right next to him and it had only been Solas’ quick use of Winter’s Grasp that had saved the dwarf from a serious injury.

“How are you feeling, Varric?”

The dwarf slumped down onto a stool. “I’ve been better but at least I’ve got a hell of a story to tell.”

“Was it a story you really wanted?” Maxwell said wryly.

“No, but it’ll buy me enough drinks to make up for the loss of this coat.”

Maxwell laughed and finally started to relax after the somewhat tense discussion he’d just had with Cassandra. He wasn’t sure he’d impressed her very much but at least his mind was a little more at ease.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get two chapters tonight! This one and Chapter 11. This is a bit of a bridging chapter, just to set a few little things in motion. A little interlude, if you like.

Cullen looked towards the gates of Haven and sighed as he rubbed his forehead. It had not been a good day. He’d woken far too early with a headache and his body screaming for lyrium. It had taken the better part of an hour to convince himself to get up, wash, get dressed and _NOT_ take any lyrium. Then his latest batch of recruits had decided to be particularly stupid and get into some pointless and idiotic posturing that had caused a five-way brawl and resulted in three recruits being sent to the healers and all the others, whether they had been involved or not, finding themselves on the receiving end of Cullen’s very short temper. Only Cassandra suddenly lurking on the edge of his field of vision had reined him in.

Of course, the resulting mess had meant he’d had to beg off his session that morning with Dorian, which had not improved his mood at all. As much as he found the work to be personally disturbing, spending time with Dorian was one of the few bright spots in his day. The man was proving to be a good friend and Cullen had few of those. They’d both been disappointed when the potion Dorian had concocted had done little more than cut the barest edge off Cullen’s withdrawal symptoms but the mage was undeterred. He seemed to view it as a challenge that must be surmounted and refused to admit even the slightest amount of defeat. He’d even managed to win over Adan to the point where the surly alchemist’s grouching was little more than form.

He’d then had to skip lunch to catch up on the reports he needed for the War Room meeting in the afternoon, a meeting that had descended into heated debate as they dissected all the possible contingencies for Maxwell’s assault on the Breach and made plans and preparations. If all went well, it would be a relatively simple matter. However if it didn’t…

Cullen shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that. He’d received a note from Dorian after the meeting, asking him if he’d come by that evening to discuss more about Templar abilities. He’d agreed without really thinking about it but now the agreed upon time was fast approaching and the headache from the morning had returned and all Cullen really wanted to do was try and eat something and collapse in his bedroll and attempt to sleep.

He sighed again and trudged through the gates and around the edges of Haven until he reached Dorian’s hut. He wanted to eat and sleep but he suspected that an hour spent with Dorian would make that a bit easier. The man could be the most ridiculous mother hen without making Cullen feel overwhelmed or irritated.

He knocked on the door and it opened to reveal the Tevinter mage as well as the familiar wash of warmth. Dorian’s eyes narrowed immediately and he huffed.

“So, the little birdy who came to talk to me was right,” he said, lowering the temperature in the room with a wave of his hand then ushering Cullen inside.

Cullen watched with fascination and wariness. He’d never seen a mage wield magic the way Dorian did, with such ease and flair. 

“Right about what?” he said with a small frown.

“Never you mind,” Dorian said, shoving Cullen towards the small table. “Sit. Eat.” He pointed towards a small bottle sitting beside one of the plates. “And drink that. It will help with the headache you have.”

Cullen probably should have protested at being so peremptorily ordered about but it had all been said with Dorian’s version of concern so he let himself be chivvied towards the table and obediently drank the contents of the bottle.

“That’s awful,” he said with a grimace. He set the bottle down and picked up the goblet next to his plate, which was already half full of red wine. He took only a sip but it was enough to clear the taste from his mouth.

“I know,” Dorian said, bringing over a covered platter and revealing its contents with a flourish. 

The simple meal that was revealed of bread, cheese, fruit and the stew the tavern served didn’t really warrant the flourish Dorian had given it but it did draw a small smile from Cullen so Dorian counted that as a win. The man looked paler than normal and had that pinched look that said louder than any words that his headache was back with a vengeance. 

He’d heard about the debacle with the baby recruits that morning. In fact, Cullen’s infuriated bellowing had been so loud it was unlikely there was anyone in Haven who hadn’t heard about it. Dorian had then eaten lunch in the tavern with Bull and Krem and had received a blow by blow description of what had happened. Neither of them had any sympathy for the hapless recruits. It had certainly explained why Cullen had sent a note begging off their morning meeting and his little birdy’s quiet word about the heated War Room meeting meant that Dorian had half expected Cullen to send an apology for this evening as well. But the man had turned up and Dorian intended to make things far easier for Cullen tonight and he certainly _didn’t_ intend to examine his motivations for doing so.

“It has deep mushroom in it,” he continued, serving them both. “So of course it tastes disgusting.”

Cullen smiled a little. “I take it the deep mushroom is what makes it work.”

“Hopefully.” Dorian sat down. “Now eat. That same little birdy told me you didn’t eat lunch.”

He waited until Cullen started slowly eating then began himself. He’d noticed after a few of these evening meetings – where he always made sure to have food because Cullen was apparently terrible at making sure he ate properly – that Cullen always started slowly, as though he expected the food to make a rapid reappearance. He knew vomiting was a symptom of the worst part of early withdrawal and he wondered if Cullen had simply had to muddle his way through that part on his own. It seemed likely and he didn’t much like that idea.

“I heard about this morning,” he said idly after he was sure Cullen was eating. “Have your wayward recruits seen the error of their ways?”

Cullen snorted and swallowed his current mouthful. “They’d better have or they’re going to learn the hard way with Bull.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow and looked amused. “You’ve recruited Bull?”

“Bull volunteered,” Cullen replied. “He came by just after lunch and offered his services. I accepted.”

Cullen looked rather smugly satisfied at that and Dorian couldn’t help but reflect that the expression was a good look on the man. He then very firmly pushed that thought aside. Cullen was very rapidly becoming a friend and he didn’t have enough of those _anywhere_ , let alone here in Haven, and he wasn’t going to risk that friendship just because his libido had gotten interested.

“I’m almost starting to feel sorry for those recruits,” he said lightly.

Cullen snorted. “If they insist on acting like bulls, they can face a real one.”

“I’d like to see Bull’s face if he heard that,” Dorian said with a laugh.

Cullen raised an eyebrow and looked amused. “He’s the one who said it.”

“I’ll bet he did. So he’s going to whip your problem children into shape, which will offer wonderful incentive for all future recruits to not misbehave.”

Cullen smiled wryly, which pulled on the scar on his lip in ways that Dorian found unbelievably attractive.

“If it works, I’ll use it.”

“How’s your headache?” Dorian asked.

Cullen paused then looked surprised. “I… not bad. It’s… still there but it’s… better.” He looked relieved. “Thank you.”

Dorian waved a hand. “No need. I’ll have to tell Adan the new mix is much more effective.” He rolled his eyes. “He’ll be insufferable. Upping the amount of deep mushroom was his idea.”

Cullen had trouble imaging Adan being insufferable. Grumpily smug maybe but not insufferable.

“Well, whoever’s idea it was, I’m grateful.” He sighed. “Today... has not been a good day.”

“Well, I hope I’ve improved it somewhat,” Dorian said with mock-indignation.

Cullen smiled. “You have indeed.”

Dorian firmly pushed down the feelings that swelled at that. Cullen was just being nice because that’s what Cullen was – _nice_. He was a good man who was polite and honest and open and Dorian needed to stop reading too much into the things he said.

“So what earthshattering news was discussed at the War Table?” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “Is Trevelyan planning on dragging me out of my bed before dawn again or is it all a deep dark secret?”

“No, your mornings are safe for now,” Cullen said with a chuckle then he sobered. “We were discussing the Breach and various contingencies for when the Herald makes the attempt to close it.”

Dorian sobered as well. “Ah yes, the mages must be almost ready by now. Solas has been working them hard.”

“The Herald wants a couple of days to work with them and get it all down in his head.”

Dorian turned his goblet in his fingers, a small frown growing. “So it’s almost time. Assuming he’s successful, what then?”

“We find out who was behind all of this and put an end to them,” Cullen replied. “Then there’s the small matter of the new Divine, the rifts all over the place, finding out what happened with the Templars, sorting out what’s left of the mage-Templar war, working out whether there are any Venatori still lingering and so on and so forth.”

“So simple,” Dorian said lightly. 

“It won’t be over just because the Herald closed the Breach, that’s all I know.”

Dorian laughed. “You know, Commander, that’s actually vaguely comforting in some disturbing way.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Cullen said wryly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set post-In Your Heart Shall Burn. In which Dorian is cold, Cullen is melancholy and Dorian discovers why Varric calls Cullen 'Curly'

By the time Dorian finally stopped moving at the makeshift camp deep in the Frostback Mountains, he was honestly too exhausted to feel anything other than weariness. Things had gone so well with the Breach and he’d been enjoying himself at the ensuing party when the Elder One had arrived with his Red Templars and dragon to spoil everything. Since then it had been a flurry of fighting at Trevelyan’s side and finally running deep into the mountains in retreat. Without their Herald.

Not that Dorian really bought into the whole _Herald of Andraste_ thing but even he would admit that losing Trevelyan was a blow and not just because the man was the only one who could close the rifts. Trevelyan was becoming a friend and had been the first to unconditionally accept Dorian into the Inquisition. He hadn’t much liked leaving the man behind but by the time they’d realised that he wasn’t behind them, there had been a dragon standing between them and him. He remembered sharing a look of mutual despair with Cassandra and Blackwall before they’d turned and reluctantly headed back to the Chantry. 

He let himself collapse next to Bull at one of the fireplaces and spared just enough energy to look around. Everyone was there, all the disparate people Trevelyan had gathered in what had become known as his Inner Circle. Everyone looked tired and dispirited as they sat slumped around the fireplace. Even the infamous Madame de Fer had lost the rigid line of her spine and wore her exhaustion etched onto her face.

He leaned against the huge Qunari beside him as much to leach heat from the man as because he provided an excellent leaning post. Bull threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him a bit closer. He had Sera tucked in close on the other side, likely for much the same reasons.

“You right there, Vint?” came the quiet rumble.

Dorian considered that for a moment then shook his head, his throat tight and his eyes pricking. “No.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Silence fell over the group. In fact, the entire camp was oddly silent, broken only by the cries and sobs of the wounded. Dorian had no idea what they were going to do now or where they were going to go, though he knew they’d have to move soon enough. If they stayed here, it wasn’t only the wounded they were likely to lose to the freezing cold.

Suddenly a cry went up from the sentries and they turned to see Cullen and Cassandra supporting a semi-conscious Maxwell Trevelyan between them as they came into the camp and headed straight for the healers’ tents. A quiet but spontaneous cheer went up through the camp and all of a sudden people were on their feet, moving around with purpose and energy and an enthusiasm that had been non-existent just a few minutes ago. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Varric said softly, a smile breaking out on his face. “The Herald has some luck, doesn’t he?”

“So it seems,” Vivienne said, as she rose to her feet, her manner returning to something approaching normal. “I should check in on the healers and see how the mages are faring. Dorian? Will you accompany me?”

He was almost surprised by the question but frankly at the moment was more than prepared to take it on face value. Besides, it would give him a chance to check on Trevelyan.

“Of course, my dear,” he said rising slowly to his feet.

The others seemed energised as well and slowly they separated to take on various tasks. By the time Dorian returned to the fire a few hours later, the entire camp was in a mood far better than their circumstances really warranted. He sat down and shivered even as the fire slowly began to warm him.

“Here.”

He gave a start at the quiet voice and looked up to find Cullen standing just behind him, holding out a bowl of something warm and smelling delicious.

“You were busy when they started serving,” Cullen elaborated as Dorian took the bowl and accompanying spoon. “So I made sure they kept some for you.”

Dorian’s stomach growled and he laughed quietly. “You are a treasure, Commander.” He gestured to the seat beside him even as he started eating. “I don’t suppose you have time to sit.”

Cullen lowered himself with a groan. “I don’t but I will anyway.”

“I am irresistible,” Dorian replied with a wicked grin.

He was concentrating far more on his food than the Commander and thus he missed the momentary widening of Cullen’s eyes and the blush that stained his cheeks.

“I, uh, made sure that your things were packed,” Cullen said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I can’t give you any guarantees that they’re in any order or completely undamaged. We didn’t have enough time for a lot of care to be taken but… they’re here. I… had them placed in my tent along with a spare bedroll. You’re welcome to stay there or the Quartermaster can find you a place in another tent.”

Dorian was silent for a moment out of sheer surprise. He’d resigned himself to the fact that the few belongings he’d gathered while in Haven – as well as his far more important notes – had been left behind in the chaos. The idea that Cullen would have thought to have them collected in the midst of the fighting and all his subsequent duties was… well, Dorian didn’t quite know how to describe it. Unexpected certainly. Astonishing. Incredible. _Gratifying_.

“Thank you,” he said with a certain amount of wonder. “I’d expected… well, I didn’t think they’d have been a priority.”

“We gathered what we could, including people’s belongings, when we could,” Cullen replied. “I knew you’d want your notes and books so when there was a lull in the fighting I sent some people after them. They also managed to get a fair bit out of Adan’s apothecary as well as most of Solas’ belongings as well.”

Dorian looked over at the other man and smiled. “I do appreciate it, Commander. To be honest, I’m surprised you remembered that sort of thing in the heat of battle.”

Cullen looked rather shyly gratified by Dorian’s reaction and the mage found himself rather charmed by that. 

“We did have some evacuation plans in place but those were more in case the Chantry got itself literally up in arms,” Cullen said. “We thought we’d have more warning.”

“Yes, that Elder One was something of a surprise.” Dorian eyed Cullen curiously. “I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to know the man standing next to the Elder One.”

Cullen’s face darkened and he glowered at the fire. “Yes, I do,” he said slowly. “His name is Samson. He was a Templar in Kirkwall before he was expelled from the Order. We… we shared quarters when I first arrived in Kirkwall.”

“What did he do to get himself expelled, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Cullen was silent for long enough that Dorian thought he wasn’t going to answer. The rather haunted and melancholy expression on the man’s face was a little disturbing though. He wasn’t sure what it meant.

Finally Cullen sighed. “He was passing letters from a mage to his lover.”

“He was expelled for _that_?” Dorian said dubiously. “It hardly seems like a terrible crime.”

“Meredith…” Cullen licked his lips and looked at the ground. “Meredith tended to get rid of any Templar who showed sympathy or care towards the mages in the Gallows. She didn’t just expel Samson though. She also had Maddox, the mage in question, made Tranquil.”

Dorian was openly shocked at that. He’d known that things in the Southern Circles could be bad and that Kirkwall had been about the worst of all but he was still surprised. He supposed he shouldn’t be. It wasn’t as if the brand wasn’t wielded for reasons just as flimsy in the Imperium. 

“So this is Samson’s great revenge, is it?” he asked quietly.

Cullen sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. He was given a chance to return to the Order, thanks to the Champion. But… it didn’t last long. He bucked against Meredith’s rule and was expelled again.” He rubbed his face with one hand. “I sometimes wonder if he wasn’t the smartest one of all of us.”

Dorian frowned at the implications in what Cullen had said. If Samson was the smarter one because he rebelled against Meredith’s iron fist then that meant the others, including Cullen, hadn’t. It was not a comforting thought when he took Cullen into account.

“He was wearing armour made with red lyrium,” he observed dryly, setting the rest of it to the side for now. “I’m fairly sure that’s not a good indicator of intelligence. And if he’s responsible for the rest of the Templars taking red lyrium then I’m not sure he’s a particularly good man either.”

“I…” Cullen sighed and scrubbed his face with both hands. “I’m not sure I’m the right person to comment on that,” he said bleakly then he sighed again. “I’m sorry, Dorian. I’m tired and I’m not thinking very well.”

Dorian nodded and let the subject drop. Those seemed to be some very deep and murky waters and if Cullen wasn’t in a position to navigate them right now then he certainly wasn’t either.

“You should get some sleep.”

Cullen shook his head. “I… there’s so much to do.”

Dorian nudged the other man with his shoulder. “Nothing that can’t wait or be handled by Cassandra or Leliana. You’re no good to any of us if you collapse on your face.” He pretended to pause and think about it. “Except maybe as a form of entertainment, that is. I’m sure you’d make a marvellous clanking and clattering sound if you fell on your face, what with all that armour.”

Cullen smiled wryly. “I take your point.” He pushed himself back up onto his feet. “And I’ll take your advice.”

“Good,” Dorian replied with a little of his normal manner. “Everyone should take my advice. I give excellent advice.”

Cullen actually chuckled at that and Dorian felt quite pleased with himself. He watched as the other man stumbled off through the tents then settled down with the remains of his stew and his thoughts.

It was late in the night when he finally sought out the Commander’s tent. None of the guards seem terribly surprised at his question when he asked for direction as they seemingly already knew his belongings and bedroll were there at the Commander’s orders. He crawled into the tent and summoned up a small wisp to act as a light source so that he could see what he was doing.

Cullen was curled up on one side of the tent, buried under a blanket and a couple of furs with his armour, sword and shield at his feet, but proved to be awake when he turned over.

“Sorry, Commander,” Dorian murmured. “I thought you were asleep.”

Cullen paused then shook his head. “I can’t get warm enough,” he admitted.

Dorian looked down at his meagre bedroll and shivered. “That doesn’t bode well.”

Cullen made a small huffing sound and looked vaguely hopeful. “The tent won’t hold that heating spell of yours, will it?”

Dorian chuckled and arched an eyebrow at Cullen. “Aha! I see what you’re up to. You were hoping I would keep you toasty and warm, were you? Very sneaky, Commander.”

Cullen blushed and cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at Dorian. “I, uh… no! I…” He sighed. “Maybe?”

“Unfortunately, for both our sakes, tent canvas won’t hold the spell worth a damn,” Dorian admitted as he pulled his boots off and crawled into his bedroll, dispelling the wisp. “Believe me, I tried when Trevelyan dragged me out to the Storm Coast.”

Dorian shivered and tried to wrap himself up a bit better in his blankets, willing his body heat to warm up the bedroll faster. The frigid cold of the ground below him seemed to leach out any heat as soon as it was generated.

After about twenty minutes, he huffed and glared. “This is really intolerable.”

“What is?” came the quiet reply from the other side of the tent.

“I’m freezing and getting colder, if that’s at all possible.”

The silence in the tent became almost tangible and Dorian raised an eyebrow at it. Finally Cullen sighed and started to shift around, throwing off his blankets and furs and kneeling next to his bedroll. Dorian summoned the wisp again out of sheer curiosity so that he could see what Cullen was doing.

Cullen blinked in the sudden light then gestured towards Dorian. “Give me your blankets.” 

“What?” Dorian huddled down a little further. It was cold and Cullen wanted him to hand over his blankets? Had the cold driven the man out of his mind?

Cullen made an exasperated sound. “Give me your blankets. We’ll sleep warmer together. It’s what everyone else is doing.”

Dorian stared at the Commander blankly before the substance of those statements sunk in. It was entirely logical but somehow his brain still short-circuited itself anyway. Thus he was almost working on automatic as he crawled out of his cocoon of blankets and handed them over to Cullen. The Commander made short work of making a larger bedroll then he crawled into it and beckoned to Dorian.

“Come here.”

Dorian hesitated then crawled into the bedroll, shifting so that he was lying with his back to Cullen’s chest. He was still feeling utterly dumbfounded, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Or rather he knew but didn’t want to admit it to himself. And given they were both fully clothed down to their socks, he didn’t need to admit or think about it right now.

“Dorian?” Cullen sounded almost worried. “Are you alright?

Even now Dorian was starting to feel warmer. Cullen put off heat like a furnace and he had no idea how the man had been feeling cold.

“Mmm, yes,” he said absently as he wriggled backwards towards that heat then finally huffed and turned around, wrapping himself rather firmly around his new heat source and burying his face in Cullen’s neck. He dismissed the wisp again almost as an afterthought.

Cullen sucked in a breath and went very still then slowly relaxed and wrapped an arm around him in return. “Comfy?” he said dryly.

“Yes, I am rather. You’re very warm,” Dorian said in a slightly muffled voice. “This was an excellent idea. Why didn’t you think of it sooner?”

He was desperately trying not to think about the fact he was being embraced by a man he found incredibly attractive. That way lay embarrassment and humiliation and rejection and not just because he’d sort of… _assumed_ he could just burrow in the way he had. Cullen was only being practical in the face of the unrelenting cold. As he’d said – and Dorian had no reason to doubt him – just about everyone would be sleeping together for warmth and he knew probably better than anyone else about Dorian’s intense dislike of the cold. He’d certainly complained enough to Cullen about that, which was undoubtedly why he was being allowed to treat Cullen like a comfort toy. He was being _indulged_. It was a little embarrassing but it was _cold_ dammit!

He felt as much as heard Cullen’s chuckle in response to what he’d said and what a lovely feeling it was too. A low rumble in the man’s chest that felt warm and comfortable.

“I wasn’t sure you’d welcome it,” Cullen admitted. “But it’s ridiculous for us to lie here cold and unable to sleep.”

Dorian firmly reminded himself that Cullen had only offered because of the cold, not because he _wanted_ to cuddle with Dorian, which was a shame because the man was really very good at the whole cuddling thing. Dorian didn’t usually enjoy that sort of closeness, finding it far too intrusive and suffocating, but he was happy to make an exception for Cullen.

“Hmm, you’re not fond of the ridiculous,” he said, feeling exhaustion creeping over him now that he was finally getting warm.

“No, it’s ridiculous,” Cullen replied, the amusement as plain as the tiredness in his voice.

“This conversation is ridiculous,” Dorian murmured. He nuzzled into Cullen’s neck a little more and let himself fall asleep, completely missing the shiver from Cullen that his actions gained him as well as the man’s arms tightening around him.

He woke the next morning to the sound of people moving around outside the tent with the sort of hushed tones that usually indicated it was far too early and most people were still asleep. That hadn’t been what had woken him however. It was the movement in the tent that had done that. He looked around sleepily, realising he was alone in the still warm bedroll and that Cullen was half-crouched in the tent as he pulled on his armour. That, however, was not what drew his immediate attention and he was still sleepy enough to actually say what he was thinking.

“So that’s why Varric calls you Curly.”

Cullen gave a start and flushed. He ran a hand through the wealth of blond curls adorning his head and looked rather exasperated. Dorian thought rather muzzily that he looked gorgeous, though thankfully he managed to not say that.

“I thought you were still asleep.”

“I was. Now I’m not,” Dorian murmured though he really was more asleep than awake. “It’s really very curly. It’s adorable.”

Cullen blushed and gave him an irritated look that Dorian completely ignored. He had enough experience with Cullen now to know when to ignore Cullen’s irritated looks. The blush was as adorable as the hair though.

“It’s ridiculous, that’s what it is,” Cullen muttered as he rummaged in his belongings, drawing out a small jar.

Dorian watched with a sense of disappointment as Cullen deftly tamed his curls. That and the donning of the fur collared cloak turned Cullen into the Commander that everyone saw every day. The curls made Cullen look younger and less serious and he guessed that might be why he tamed them. He watched as Cullen strapped his sword belt around his waist and slung his shield onto his back before turning toward the door of the tent. He paused then and looked back at Dorian.

“Go back to sleep,” he said quietly. “We’re going to have to move soon but we can’t do anything until the Herald awakens and we can find out what happened. Get some rest while you can.”

Dorian wanted to frown at that and suggest that Cullen do the same but the man slipped out of the tent before he could and he slid inexorably down into sleep again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Trevelyan gets a promotion, Cullen is inspirational and Dorian has a revelation.

The next day brought about a newly woken Herald and an inspiring song. Dorian appreciated the inspiration but he was too cold for it to really uplift him too much. He found it hard to feel overly inspired when he was shivering. He very firmly didn’t think about how warm and comfortable he had been in Cullen’s arms. Admittedly that thought was inspiring in ways Trevelyan couldn’t manage but it was also demoralising at the same time because he knew what this kind of sharing of blankets was all about and it had nothing to do with Cullen’s desire for him.

Still, the Herald waking up and the inspirational song lead to an actual destination that didn’t involve freezing to death in the mountains and as they travelled, the days might have been be cold and full of far too much walking in snow and ice but the nights were full of the exquisite torture of sharing the Commander’s tent and blankets. _Platonically_. He felt the need to keep reminding himself of that fact. 

When Skyhold came into view, Dorian was willing to admit that he was impressed without any qualifications required. The fortress was oddly intact for a place that had been abandoned to the elements for Maker knew how long. There was damage to be sure and neglect and plenty of dust and dirt but when he found the library, there were books in there that were still intact. He ensconced himself in the library without a second thought, eager to look through those books and see if they were of any worth. It helped distract him from the glares and whispers and reality of Corypheus that still had his mind boggling… the stories of the old Magisters breaching the Fade were true? He wasn’t sure if that was horrifying or fascinating. Or both… and the fact that the room he had claimed as his own was warm and comfortable but his bed was empty.

He was snarky and just on the edge of hyperactivity however and when he could no longer stand the library, its inhabitants’ suspicious looks and the unending squawking of Leliana’s birds, he decided to actually get around to the exploration he’d promised himself. He tried not to gawk too obviously at the murals or frescoes or whatever they were that Solas was working on as he made his way through the rotunda at the bottom of the library tower. They were astonishing and he had no idea whether they were something the elves or the Dalish do or something unique to Solas himself. He was certainly not in the mood to ask either. Perhaps he’d do so later, when he might feel more inclined to put up with Solas’ faintly patronising air.

He crossed the newly repaired bridge and came to a halt at the door at the end of it. He knew who had claimed the office behind the door, as he’d seen the comings and goings from his window in the library, and he found himself hesitating before he finally knocked.

“Come in,” came the abstracted reply from within.

He opened the door and walked in to find Cullen leaning over his desk, frowning down at some paperwork. It didn’t look like a particularly comfortable way to work but he could see the tense line of the Commander’s shoulders and the way his forehead was pinched into a frown and suspected there was another cause behind the stance.

Then Cullen looked up and the smile he directed at Dorian was open and genuine. “Dorian. My apologies.” He straightened and waved a hand at the plethora of papers on his desk before resting both hands on the pommel of his sword. “If I’d known the Inquisition was going to run on paperwork…” He chuckled ruefully.

“You’d have signed up anyway,” Dorian said lightly, feeling absurdly pleased that Cullen was obviously happy to see him even in the light of the wealth of work on his desk and the obvious headache he was suffering from. “You’d have just finagled yourself an adjutant or whatever they call them here.”

“That’s… not a bad idea,” Cullen said thoughtfully. “Though most of the people who are actually qualified to be my adjutant are actually of more use to me in the field.” He sighed. “I have a decided lack of experienced people.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Then most of the would-be soldiers flooding in are…” He waved a hand in the general direction of the courtyards. 

“All piss and vinegar as one of my trainers used to say?” Cullen replied dryly. “Very much so. Young fools thinking this is going to be their chance at glory.” He knew he was sounding more than a little sour but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “And it’s left to me to try and beat that out of them before they get themselves killed.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow and gave the Commander a long dour look. “That sounds very much like a man who has been working for far too long. Come. Join me at the tavern for lunch.”

Cullen was sorely tempted and was just about to say yes when a knock came at the door. It opened a moment later and one of Leliana’s messengers poked her head inside.

“Commander? Sister Nightingale and Seeker Pentaghast have asked if you would join them in the lower courtyard, ser.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said with a nod. He knew what this was about.

“All work and no play makes Commander Cullen an irascible oaf,” Dorian said lightly but with some significance.

Cullen, having had some experience with Dorian’s particular brand of slightly sardonic concern, chuckled. “I will join you, Dorian. This probably won’t take too long.”

“I will see you at the tavern then,” Dorian replied and watched as the Commander hurried out of his office.

Dorian trailed after him with some curiosity. Cullen wasn’t particularly good at hiding his expressions and the air of anticipation about him seemed rather apropos of nothing that Dorian knew was going on. He paused on the battlements where he had a rather good view of the courtyard. Cullen joined in a discussion with Leliana, Cassandra and Josephine and from what Dorian could see, they all seemed to be in complete agreement. Then Trevelyan emerged from the building and Cassandra called him over. Josephine, Leliana and Cullen all departed with intent in their steps and Dorian found himself drawn down into the courtyard. 

It didn’t take long before a crowd gathered, one that had been clearly summoned by Cullen and Josephine as they took their places at the front. Then Dorian watched with interest as Trevelyan was offered and accepted the role of Inquisitor. However when Cullen stepped forward and rallied the crowd, drawing his sword in salute, Dorian could only watch in astonishment. 

The Cullen he knew – the somewhat tormented man who suffered from terrible withdrawal headaches, who drove himself into exhaustion on a regular basis, who doubted himself in so many ways – had seem an odd choice for the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces on first glance. But this man? This man that Cullen transformed himself into – strong, confident, demanding the crowd’s response, tall and proud and determined – _that_ was a Commander. 

And when he saw the lack of surprise in the faces of the crowd as they answered the Commander’s challenge, Dorian had a sudden flash of understanding. This was the man the people of the Inquisition saw, the man _they_ were allowed to see. The confident Commander. _Dorian_ was allowed to see the man behind the façade. It occurred to him that he was probably one of a very small number to be allowed behind the curtain, so to speak. It was Cassandra and him as far as he could tell with _maybe_ Leliana and Josephine being allowed a peek from time to time. He had been allowed to see Cullen at his weakest and even been allowed to help him. 

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and forced himself to look away from Cullen and back up to Trevelyan, who was now raising his sword in response to Cullen’s rallying cry. It was an impressive sight but Dorian was still caught up in his little revelation. There had been few people back home who had ever allowed him close. Almost none if he was being honest. They hadn’t allowed it and he hadn’t wanted it back then. But this man, this great sad Fereldan puppy of a man, had let him in closer than he could ever recall being to a person. 

And he wanted nothing in return, except Dorian’s friendship. He didn’t want to _use_ Dorian in any way, he didn’t have any ulterior motives, he didn’t even want _sex_ and he trusted Dorian wouldn’t use those weaknesses against him, to hurt him or to undermine the Inquisition. 

Dorian fought the sudden urge to run, to lash out, to make whatever this was between the two of them crash and burn. A survival instinct born in the cesspool that was Tevinter society. He almost gave into it. Trusting his feelings had never gone well for him but… that had been back home. Where everyone was a snake in the grass and few people could ever be trusted not to savage those around them.

But he was here, in Fereldan of all places, in a great fortress in the mountains, being trusted by these people, being made to feel welcome and wanted and like this was a _home_ by the people who actually mattered. For once, he didn’t want to keep his distance, to make a relationship of any description crash and burn. He wanted to be Trevelyan’s friend, he wanted to sit in the tavern and drink and laugh with Bull and make sly comments in Tevene to Krem and watch the man struggle not to laugh, he wanted to argue about magical theory with Solas, he wanted to play ‘aren’t we the superior types’ with Vivienne and most of all, he _wanted_ to be Cullen’s friend. Oh, he wanted more than that with Cullen, he’d admit that to himself now in the midst of his revelation, but he wanted to be the man’s friend just as much.

He used the sudden milling of the crowd now that the show was over to slip away to the tavern. Part of him wanted to run off and hide until he could assimilate all of this but he wouldn’t… _couldn’t_ … do that to Cullen. Still, the change in atmosphere when he walked in the door was welcome, with most people ignoring him in favour of their drinks and only Bull and Krem raising their mugs in welcome. He waved off their unspoken invitation and got two mugs of the vile Fereldan ale that he would deny to his dying breath that he liked before ordering lunch for both himself and Cullen. He’d just taken a seat as a free table when Cullen walked in and joined him.

“Very inspirational,” he said lightly, pushing one of the mugs over to Cullen.

Cullen shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “The things we have to do for the troops. I always feel a bit ridiculous doing that but it works.”

“Indeed it does. I felt positively uplifted.” He arched an eyebrow. “So, Inquisitor Trevelyan?”

“We all agreed,” Cullen said simply. “None of us are really suited to be Inquisitor, me least of all, and Trevelyan does have the cachet of being the Herald of Andraste.” He looked contemplative as he took a drink of his ale. “Trevelyan will do well. He’s been the leader in all but name anyway.”

“It does make us rather official now,” Dorian observed.

“It does and not before time.” Cullen’s expression turned to one of calculation and strategy that Dorian had seen often over the chess board. “He was the one who dealt with the situation in Redcliffe and faced King Alistair. He’s also been the name on everyone’s lips with all that he’s done in the Hinterlands, the Fallow Mire and the Storm Coast. With his survival at Haven, he and the Inquisition will be a force that the rest of Thedas will _have_ to pay attention to now.”

“So what now?” Dorian asked, leaning back a little as the serving girl placed plates of cold meat, bread and cheese in front of them.

Cullen gave the girl a small smile and a nod but his attention was back on Dorian before he could see the girl blush. Dorian saw it and was startled by the flood of jealousy that suddenly rose within him. He very firmly reminded himself that Cullen was not his and frankly he didn’t even know whether the man was interested in other men. For all he knew, Cullen was firmly in the camp of liking the ladies. It would be just his luck.

“Now we have to deal with whatever mess Hawke has dug up,” Cullen said, breaking into Dorian’s thoughts, “and prepare for a party in Halamshiral.”

He sounded so sour at that last that Dorian couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not a fan of the Great Game, Commander?”

Cullen snorted. “No. It’s ridiculous.”

“Or is it just that you can’t play?” Dorian said slyly.

Cullen gave him a flat look. “I get enough of that from Leliana and Josephine. I don’t need it from you as well. I’ll tell you what I told them. It’s not that I don’t understand it or can’t play it, it’s that I _won’t_.”

Dorian gave Cullen a long look and then realised that he meant that. He suspected Cullen wasn’t a particularly good player of the Game but good or not, he simply refused. He wondered for a moment if it was a Fereldan thing then made a mental note to have a word with Trevelyan about the upcoming masquerade they were attempting to finagle an invitation to. He wanted to be there to see how the Commander’s refusal to play the Game panned out.

Dorian looked amused. “We should have an interesting time in Halamshiral.”

“I’m not looking forward to it,” Cullen groused.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And in this chapter, Dorian is a cat (not literally) and Trevelyan puts his foot in his mouth without realising it. Hey, he's just been in the right place at the right time.

“You take me to the most _fascinating_ places, Inquisitor,” Dorian said dryly as he looked around the hut they’d taken refuge in. 

Crestwood – and the hut they were now standing in – was wet, dank and smelled rather horrifically of mould, rising damp and dead corpses. It was, quite frankly, an even money bet as to which was worse – Crestwood or the Fallow Mire.

“I’m a giver that way, Dorian,” Trevelyan said with a grin as he leaned his staff against one wall.

“You’re certainly _something_ ,” Dorian muttered as he shucked off his pack and pulled at his sodden robes with distaste.

Trevelyan caught the action and patted Dorian on the shoulder. “Wait for Blackwall and Varric to get back with the firewood. Once we get a fire started, we can dry out a bit.”

Dorian made a disgruntled grumbling sound that had Trevelyan chuckling.

“You sound like a wet cat.”

“I _am_ a wet cat,” Dorian said then he smiled a little. “I knew coming here would be different from Tevinter but I hadn’t quite prepared myself for how different.”

“I could bring Solas or Vivienne with me instead?” Maxwell offered.

“Perish the thought,” Dorian said with a wave of his hand. “They’re not even in my league. You should know that.”

Trevelyan grinned. “I should tell them you said that.” 

“Please don’t. The whining would be intolerable.”

“Come and help get the bedrolls set up then and I’ll consider keeping quiet,” Trevelyan laughed.

Dorian pretended to look shocked. “What is this? _Blackmail_? From the Herald of Andraste? Shocking!”

“No, it’s blackmail from the Inquisitor,” Trevelyan replied.

“Oh, well, that makes much more sense.” Dorian walked over and started helping Maxwell. “Of course the dread Inquisitor would blackmail people to his heart’s content.”

Trevelyan frowned. “I’m not sure I like the idea of that.”

Dorian paused and gave him a sympathetic look. “People are going to think it, especially those used to playing the Game, so you might as well use it to your advantage.”

“Ugh. Orlesians.”

Dorian laughed. “The great cry from everyone except the Orlesians.”

Maxwell sighed. “I suppose you’re right though.”

“Of course I’m right!” Dorian said with mock indignation. “I’m always right.” Trevelyan raised an eyebrow at him and Dorian grinned and amended his statement. “I’m mostly right.”

Maxwell laughed. “Well, if you’re mostly right about things then maybe you can help me with Cassandra.”

Dorian’s smile turned decidedly wicked. “Still chasing after the formidable Seeker, are you?”

Maxwell sighed gustily and his expression became rather sappy. “Yeah.” He blinked and came back to himself. “Besides, you can’t talk. I’ve seen the way you moon after Cullen.”

Dorian froze and his expression took on a distinctly panicked edge. “What?” he said in a strangled tone.

The tone caught Maxwell’s attention and when he looked over at Dorian, he saw the man’s expression. “Dorian? Are you alright?”

“What did you say?” Dorian demanded.

Maxwell frowned. “I’ve seen the way you moon after Cullen?”

Dorian paled. “Does everyone know?”

Maxwell looked even more confused. “Uh… no. At least I don’t think so. No one’s said anything that I’ve heard. I’ve just… occasionally been in the right place at the right time.” He frowned. “Dorian… what’s wrong?”

Dorian wasn’t listening. He was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Maxwell stood up and caught the other man’s arm, bringing him to a halt.

“Dorian, what’s wrong?” he said firmly.

Dorian grabbed hold of Maxwell’s arm. “You mustn’t say a word.”

“Of course I won’t.” Maxwell made a small frustrated noise. “Dorian, you’re not making any sense.”

Dorian let him go and make a hissing noise that _really_ made him sound like a cat. “You’re the one not making sense.”

Maxwell drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had no idea what had Dorian is such a state except it apparently had something to do with Cullen. “You… don’t want him to know? I wouldn’t do that, Dorian.”

“Of course I don’t want him to know,” Dorian exclaimed as he waved a hand around in an agitated manner. “He’d been appalled!”

Maxwell raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the wall. “Uh… I doubt it. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m not sure he’s exactly acknowledged it to himself but he’s interested, Dorian.”

“How can you _know_ this?” Dorian demanded plaintively.

Maxwell snorted. “Circle mage. We’re used to being discreet.”

Dorian seemed to be warring with himself then he finally said, very quietly, “But… we’re both men.”

“I noticed that,” Maxwell said dryly. “So?”

He was surprised by the forlorn look that appeared in Dorian’s face. It was so unexpected that he pushed off the wall and came over to where the Tevinter mage was standing and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Dorian? What’s really wrong here? I’m a little confused.”

For a long time he thought Dorian wasn’t going to say anything but then the mage spoke in a voice so soft, Maxwell had to lean in to hear it.

“In Tevinter, two men… it’s considered shameful. Something to be hidden behind closed doors and curtains and never spoken of openly. Certainly never to be… indulged in openly either.”

Maxwell gave Dorian’s shoulder a comforting squeeze as some nasty suspicions about Dorian’s life back home suddenly came to mind. “You’re not in Tevinter anymore, Dorian. It’s not like that here. If you wanted to pursue a relationship with Cullen, no one would bat an eyelid.” He chuckled at the sceptical look Dorian gave him. “Well, if they did, it would be because you’re from Tevinter – which is ridiculous anyway – not because you’re a man.”

He could see that Dorian didn’t look very convinced and he sighed. “Look, Dorian, I won’t say anything to anyone. I doubt anyone else has noticed anyway. I only have because I’ve seen you leave his office, looking ridiculously smitten and smug.” He paused and grinned. “Smugly smitten.”

He got a weak smile from Dorian for that then continued, “Besides, everyone knew you were sharing a tent on the way to Skyhold. I suspect a lot of people think you’re already together.”

He was surprised when Dorian groaned and ducked his head. “What?”

“We shared a bedroll,” Dorian said with another groan.

Maxwell waggled his eyebrows. “Ooh la la.”

“Platonically.”

“Damn.”

Dorian gave Maxwell a look that was a mix of exasperated, amused and slightly terrified. “You’re not helping.”

“I could though.” Maxwell raised his eyebrows and grinned. “I could help you and you could help me. We could be mutual helpers.” When Dorian looked unconvinced, he plastered his best innocent look on his face. “We could start by you helping me?”

Dorian seemed to regain at least a little of his normal manner, drawing it round him like a protective barrier. “Oh, I see. This is entirely selfish then?”

Maxwell chuckled. “Well, only because it seems to me that you need to spend some time peeling yourself off the ceiling about what I said.”

Dorian gave him an exasperated look. “Why do you keep comparing me to a cat?”

“Because you _are_ a cat, Dorian,” Maxwell said with a laugh. “A spoiled pampered purebred cat who hates being cold and getting wet.”

“I… have trouble arguing against that.”

Maxwell laughed and slung his arm over Dorian’s shoulder. “That’s because it’s true. Now come and help me think up ways to woo Cassandra while we wait for Blackwall and Varric to get back.”

Dorian gave a world-weary sigh then smiled a little as he pushed his own issues to the back of his mind for now. “Well, if I _must_.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In true romcom style, while Dorian and Trevelyan were having their conversation in the last chapter, Cullen and Cassandra were having the following conversation...

“He is trying to _court_ me.”

It was as much the baffled tone of voice as the words themselves that had Cullen looking up from his report. He’d barely twitched when the door had opened. He was so used to it now that the annoyance of people barging in whenever they liked barely registered. It wasn’t like he had much of a private life to disturb anyway. But Cassandra’s baffled plaintive voice was enough to draw his attention away from his report.

“I think he’s been trying to do that since Haven,” Cullen said with a smirk. It wasn’t difficult to work out which ‘he’ Cassandra was talking about.

“He has been… Ugh!” 

Cassandra threw her hands in the air and Cullen struggled not to laugh.

“I’m sure he’d stop if you asked him to,” he said blandly.

Cassandra frowned at him and started pacing. Cullen watched her with amusement.

“Do you want him to stop?”

Watching the expressions running across Cassandra’s face right at this moment was one of the most interesting things Cullen had done in a long time.

“I… no?” she said in a tentative uncertain tone of voice that Cullen had never heard from her before. “I just… do not understand.”

He smiled as he set the report down and came round to lean against the front of his desk. “He likes you.”

“Why?” Cassandra looked confused and lost and more than a little suspicious.

Cullen floundered for a moment and waved a hand. “Uh… because you’re… competent, you’re beautiful, you’re strong. I don’t know exactly what’s attracted him but I’m sure those come into it.”

As Cullen watched, Cassandra blushed and looked everywhere but at him. He was oddly charmed. The Seeker was so determined and steely that sometimes it was easy to forget she was a woman as well, who might have insecurities and worries of her own.

“You believe I am those things?” she asked hesitantly.

Now Cullen blushed a little. Perhaps in another time or another place or had his circumstances been something other than what they were, the path he and Cassandra might have gone down could have been different. He’d always liked strong competent women. But things were the way they were and Cassandra was his friend and in many ways, his rock, his anchor. He hoped he could be something of the same for her. He could never regret the way things were and besides, his interest lay…

He gave a tiny shake of his head to dislodge that half-formed errant thought. He’d had a lot of practice of late. He knew that one day soon he was going to have to pursue that particular thought to its end and sort it out but now was not the time.

“You are,” he said plainly. He saw no reason to beat around the bush. “Trevelyan sees that and… he obviously likes it very much. Likes you very much.”

Cassandra made a disgruntled sound. “And soon he will wish me to _change_ me to suit his… _opinions_ about women and what they should be like.”

Cullen couldn’t help it, he snorted with laughter. Cassandra immediately levelled a glare at him and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“You think Maxwell Trevelyan of all people will suddenly demand that you wear pretty dresses and simper at him? The man who hides around corners and watches you with a look of adoring awe on his face as you beat training dummies, me, Blackwall, Bull and assorted other soldiers into submission? The man who gifted you with a spectacular new set of armour, sword and shield like he was giving you the finest jewels in all the land?”

Cassandra looked somewhat mollified by that but she also still seemed disgruntled.

“Is that how he sees me?”

Cullen smirked a little. “The same man who browbeat Varric into writing the next chapter of his romance serial just for you.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened and she blushed. “How do you know that?” she demanded.

“A little bird told me.”

Cassandra wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. I will not ask how Leliana found out.”

“I always just assume Leliana knows everything,” Cullen said with a shrug. “It’s easier that way.”

That drew a small smile from the Seeker. “She does know most things.”

“She’s scary that way,” Cullen said lightly.

“She remembered you when I first brought you into the Inquisition,” Cassandra said. “She didn’t recognise your name but when she saw you, she remembered you.”

Cullen ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d told Cassandra more about what had happened in Kinloch than he had anyone else. She’d been questioning him about his nightmares and he’d found himself telling her. He’d surprised himself with that but he supposed he’d thought that if anyone was going to understand, it would be a Seeker. And she had. 

“I remembered her as well actually,” he admitted. “I never got her name back then but I remembered her as being with Warden Cousland.” He sighed. “I can’t imagine I made a very good impression.”

Cassandra walked over and leaned against the table next to him close enough that their shoulders touched.

“She remembered a young Templar at the very limits of his endurance and sanity,” she said quietly. “A young man who had been held prisoner for weeks, tortured and tormented to the point where he didn’t believe the people standing in front of him were real at first. She might have some criticisms about your conduct in Kirkwall but she does not hold the angry words of a traumatised young man against you. Nor does she believe Queen Elissa would either.”

Cullen bowed his head and swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. He could feel the steady pressure against his shoulder and leaned into it for a moment. He did get along well with Leliana but he’d always felt there was a kind of barrier between them caused by that encounter in Kinloch Hold. It seemed the barrier had been entirely of his making and not hers.

“I… didn’t know.”

“She has been contemplating speaking to you about it but she was uncertain whether you would care to be reminded of that time,” Cassandra said, leaning back into his shoulder. The contact was very grounding and kept him calm. “She has also been aware that her temper has not been at its best. She, like me, has her share of regrets about Most Holy’s death and she did not wish to add overly hasty or poorly considered words to you to those regrets.”

“I would have understood,” Cullen replied. “I didn’t know the Divine like you and Leliana but I understand grief well enough. Certainly well enough not to take things personally.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll speak to her.”

“That would be good,” Cassandra replied with a brief smile. “She is a caring person behind the role of Spymaster.”

They fell into a companionable silence for a moment then Cassandra looked at him speculatively. She arched an eyebrow and Cullen mentally braced himself for whatever she was about to say.

“You have become… good friends with Dorian, have you not?”

Cullen shot her a glance for that very significant pause then nodded. “I… yes, I have. He’s… a good man.”

“You shared your tent with him on the trip here.”

Cullen wasn’t sure what to make of that. It wasn’t a question really, more of an observation but it made him blush anyway. He had enjoyed having Dorian in his arms and the reasons why – beyond the unrelenting cold – had been something he’d been avoiding thinking about since they’d arrived at Skyhold.

He settled on the very neutral response of, “I did.”

“Hmm,” Cassandra said. “And how is your little project with him going?”

“Uh, we haven’t had much of a chance to do more work since we got to Skyhold,” Cullen said with a grimace.

“But before that?”

“We’d established some base line readings as Dorian put it,” Cullen replied. “He’s been as much interested in how my abilities fare as he has in finding out if there’s a way for a mage to thwart Templar abilities.” He shrugged. “With the Red Templars out there, it seems like a good thing to pursue.”

Cassandra was silent as she considered that and Cullen waited for her. He did believe it could be a very good thing if the mages of the Inquisition, especially Trevelyans and those in his Inner Circle, had a way of combatting the Red Templars. Admittedly, from the reports he’d read, the Red Templars seemed less inclined to use those abilities but it would only take one time for the worst to happen.

“It might be wise, though the long term effects would need to be considered,” Cassandra eventually said. She sounded wary and concerned.

“I know,” Cullen said. “But Trevelyan is a mage and he has tended to take another mage with him when he travels and…”

Cassandra nodded. “I know and I do not think it is a _bad_ idea but the consequences in the future are something that should be considered.” She raised an eyebrow at Cullen and said dryly, “After all, it was failing to consider future consequences that was, in part, responsible for the current mess.”

“Point taken,” Cullen said.

“But do not stop,” she said, this time with a little less confidence. “I would… it would be good to know that… the mages have some protection.”

Cullen smirked a little. He said nothing but just let the smirk sit on his face until Cassandra looked over and saw it. She made a disgusted noise and elbowed him sharply in the side.

“I am not…” she began indignantly then she sighed and sagged a little. “I do not know what I should do.”

Cullen chuckled softly. “Do you like him?”

“I…” Cassandra frowned.

“No,” Cullen said slowly. “Don’t think about what you believe you _ought_ to be doing or feeling. Just you. What do _you_ think? Do you like him?”

Cassandra was silent for a long, long moment then she sighed again. “I do. I… I like him very much.” She looked rather lost and a little plaintive. “But I do not know what I should do.”

“I’m no great expert in these sorts of things,” Cullen said ruefully, “but just… let it happen. Don’t worry so much about what anyone else thinks. No one is laughing at you.” He smiled. “They wouldn’t dare.”

She gave a bark of laughter at that and relaxed. “Very well. I shall… see what happens.” She gave him a mock glare. “And if it goes terribly, I shall blame you.”

“By all means,” Cullen said with a laugh.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's snowing at Skyhold. Well, actually the snowstorm from hell is raging around the keep. Dorian decides it is an excellent day to stay in bed. Then he gets a visitor. And no, not the one I know you all want.

The weather at Skyhold had taken a distinct turn for the worst with a snowstorm howling its way around the stronghold. Dorian had opened the door to his room that morning, taken one look at the weather and closed the door again. He was prepared to endure the southern weather but this was beyond the pale. So instead of going out, he’d returned to his bed and spent some time figuring out how he could feed himself without venturing out of the warmth of his room. Apparently his thoughts had some weight as about an hour after his first aborted attempt at getting up, there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in,” he called and the door opened to admit the Inquisitor as well as a blast of cold air and a flurry of snow. “Vishante kaffas! Close the door, man. I don’t want the entire storm in the room.”

Maxwell grinned and shoved the door closed with one hip. His hands were full of a heavy wooden tray that was laden with covered plates.

“I come bearing food,” he said with a triumphant grin as he put the tray down on the table. “Varric said you hadn’t appeared for breakfast and I can’t have my favourite mage starving to death.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow and fought to keep the smile from his face. “If you’re going to try and curry favour from me then the least you could do is give me breakfast in bed.”

“What makes you think I’m trying to curry favour with you?” Maxwell asked with a very poor attempt as innocence.

Despite his patently false denial, he did quickly bring of a plate laden with bread and honey, fruit and cheese over to where Dorian was still lounging in his bed. He handed it over then flopped down on the bottom of the bed.

“Help me,” he said plaintively.

Dorian popped a piece of apple in his mouth and tried not to laugh. “Whatever is the matter, my dear Inquisitor?”

“Cassandra has this _list_.” Maxwell said with a groan as he rolled over so that his head was hanging off the side of the bed.

Dorian arched an eyebrow at Maxwell’s dramatics and popped a piece of bread and honey in his mouth. He waited until he had finished and licked the excess honey off his fingers.

“A list of what?”

“Things she wants. Candles and poetry and… _help_?”

“She wants help?” Dorian said with a better imitation of innocence than Trevelyan had managed. He was actually rather charmed. So the fierce Seeker was a romantic at heart? That was utterly… adorable.

The Inquisitor flung a hand towards Dorian’s feet and thwapped them as best as he could. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Dorian said with a laugh as he contemplated a piece of cheese. “At least she’s been specific.”

“ _Dorian_ ,” Maxwell whined. “Help me.”

“You know, this is a very unattractive side of your personality,” Dorian said idly.

Maxwell made a rude sound then he rolled over and rested his chin on Dorian’s knee with the sort of doe eyes that had always gotten Dorian into some sort of trouble in the past. Felix had always possessed at devastating version of that look. 

“I’ll help you with Cullen.”

Dorian went very still and swallowed hard before forcing himself to relax. “Maxwell,” he began then stopped because he didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the offer but…

“Dorian,” Trevelyan said in a rather good imitation of him.

“There’s nothing going on between the Commander and myself,” Dorian said with a sigh.

“But you want there to be,” Maxwell replied. “And there could be.”

Dorian swallowed again. “I… I can’t. Not with him. I can’t make the first move.”

He couldn’t. Just _couldn’t_. Because if he did, it would be quick and fast, a cheap fuck and then over. Because that was all he knew. He didn’t know how to do this and make it last. And if he couldn’t have _more_ then he didn’t want to start anything he might regret.

Maxwell was silent as he looked at Dorian. The honesty on the man’s face was almost heart-breaking. After what Dorian had told him, he could understand why he was so hesitant. It was frustrating though. Obviously he was going to have to tackle this from the other side of the equation and he made a mental note to beard the Lion of Skyhold in his den as soon as he possibly could.

“Dorian?” he said, making sure to put an especially pathetic whine in his voice.

He was reward by Dorian’s put upon sigh and the glimmer of amusement in the other mage’s eyes. The mood in the room shifted from impending misery to something far lighter again.

“You really are terribly annoying. What do you want?”

“She wants poetry and candles and flowers and I want to give them to her.”

Dorian huffed and rolled his eyes and returned to his breakfast. “So give them to her.”

“Dorian,” Maxwell said patiently.

Dorian ate some more of the bread and honey and then sighed. “Yes, O Dread Inquisitor? Do impart your wisdom unto me.”

Maxwell frowned, momentarily distracted. “Have you been reading Varric’s books again?”

“No,” Dorian said quickly then he glanced around the room to make sure his copy of the Tale of the Champion was out of sight. He made an exasperated noise. “What is wrong?”

“Um…” Maxwell gestured to himself. “Circle mage? Been there since I was eight. Not a lot of opportunities for romance in the Circle.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “Now… quickies against the wall in a secluded place before the Templars come looking for us, sure. Romance, not so much.”

Dorian blinked at that interesting piece of information then rolled his eyes. “What makes you think I’m any better at it? Firstly, I like men and secondly, I’ve lived in Tevinter most of my life where liking men is a scandal at best. Honestly, I’m also far more acquainted with quickies against the wall than actual romance.”

He said it in a flippant tone but he wasn’t able to keep the wistfulness or the hurt out of his voice. He’d have kept feeling sorry for himself if Trevelyan hadn’t flopped down dramatically again and said very, very dryly, “Wow, we really are pathetic, aren’t we?”

Dorian snorted as amusement gleamed in his eyes. Trevelyan always seemed to be able to lift his mood. It was ridiculous. “Speak for yourself. Why don’t you ask Varric about all this? He’s the romance novelist.”

“No!” Maxwell yelped, sitting up abruptly with wide, slightly panicked eyes. “He’d use it to tease her and then she’d drag it out of him how he knows and then she’d never talk to me again. Ever. That’s assuming she didn’t… _remove_ parts of me that I’m rather fond of and have certain plans for.”

“Josephine then?”

Maxwell paused with one finger raised then he smiled. “Hey! Why didn’t I think of that? Josephine would be perfect.”

“There’s nothing our good ambassador can’t organise,” Dorian said as he finished of the last of the breakfast Maxwell had brought.

“Oh. Yeah. That’s a point,” Trevelyan said with a wince. “I don’t exactly want this organised within an inch of its life.”

“What about that book merchant in Recliffe? The dwarven one?” Dorian suggested with a grin. “He might know something about poetry.”

“It’s worth a try,” Maxwell said with a sigh, subsiding down onto the bed again. “I have to get the best for her, Dorian. I _have_ to.”

Dorian snorted with laughter. “You really are besotted.”

“Says the man who makes googly eyes at the Commander.”

“I do not make _googly eyes_ at Cullen,” Dorian said indignantly. “I do not make _googly eyes_ at anyone!”

“Yes, you do,” Maxwell teased. “And you stare at his arse.”

Dorian looked nonplussed for a moment then he rallied. “Yes, well, I’d dare anyone not to stare at Cullen’s arse. It’s a very fine arse, wrapped up in those leather pants the way it is.” He shoved his empty plate at the Inquisitor. “Now be a good boy and fill up my plate again.”

Maxwell laughed and rolled of the bed. He got to his feet and took the plate with a low bow. “Yes, o mighty mage. Let me wait upon you hand and foot.”

“As you should,” Dorian said tartly.

Maxwell filled the plate with enough for both of them and returned to the bed. He handed the plate over and flopped down onto the bed again.

“Tell me how your research is going. In detail.”

“Why?” Dorian asked suspiciously. He’d have been getting mental whiplash from the abrupt changes in subject except he was used to the way Maxwell worked after all the time they’d spent traveling. “You usually only want the important points.”

“Because Vivienne was making noises about ensuring I know how to dance properly in preparation for the ball in Halamshiral,” Maxwell replied. “And if I have to make a decision between talking magical theory with you and being tormented… uh, I mean trained… by her? Well, the choice is easy.”

Dorian laughed and began to explain what he was doing in between bites of food. This was an excellent way to spend a stormy day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The snow storm continues and Cullen is evicted from his office. There's a hole in the roof, don't you know? So he goes to talk to Dorian and unpleasant revelations ensue.
> 
> Well, it couldn't stay soft and fluffy forever now, could it? This chapter is rated A for Angst and I will also warn about discussion of imprisonment and torture and cruelty and so on. Nothing overt or explicit but there are things implied. It's Cullen's past after all, it's not pretty.

Cullen stood in the middle of the War Room and stared rather moodily down at the map on table. The room was bitingly cold with the storm raging outside but the wind was surprisingly muted. He’d come in to see what, if anything, needed to be rescued after he’d been firmly evicted from his office and the room above by Josephine and Cassandra, both of whom had put their foot down about him staying there during a snowstorm. He’d tried protesting but they’d simply bundled up some of his belongings and all but marched him back over the bridge and into the main building. Solas had watched them pass with thinly veiled amusement so Cullen had known he’d get no help from that source. 

He heard the doors open and close but he didn’t look up until Cassandra said, very dryly, “Please tell me you are not sulking.”

Cullen sputtered. “I am _not_ sulking. I’m not without reason, you know.”

“Of course,” Cassandra replied, leaning against the table. “That is why you still have not gotten that hole in your roof fixed, despite Josephine offering three times thus far.”

Cullen shifted from foot to foot. “There are more important things that need to be fixed first.”

Cassandra fixed him with a very unimpressed glare and he sighed and leaned against the table as well.

“You know I don’t like enclosed spaces,” he admitted in a low tone. “You saw what I was like on the ship.”

Cassandra’s expression actually softened a little. “I am aware.”

“The office and the room are fine,” he continued. “I like them but they’re just… The stone walls and the narrow windows…” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “The hole helps. I can see the sky and the stars. I…” He licked his lips. He’d never have admitted this to anyone other than Cassandra. “I know I’m not trapped.”

Cassandra moved around until she was leaning on the table next to him, once again shoulder to shoulder. He liked that about her. She knew how to give a measure of comfort in a way that didn’t make him feel overburdened.

“You are not going to sleep in the room Josephine has given you, are you?” 

Cullen shook his head. “It’s too small. I appreciate her gesture but… I would have been fine.”

Now Cassandra snorted. “There was snow in your bedroom, Cullen. I saw it. You would have caught your death of cold.” She nudged his shoulder. “Leave it with me. I will see what I can do. You need to get some rest as much as anyone and this storm gives us all a good opportunity for that.”

“You don’t need to…”

“Do not even finish that sentence,” Cassandra said with an arched eyebrow. 

Cullen sighed, realising that no matter how much he argued, Cassandra would not be swayed from her course of action.

“How goes the courting?” he asked instead, with all the insouciance of a brother. He’d had practice after all, though Mia had usually whacked him when he got like this.

“I shall remember that question the next time we practise together,” she said archly then her eyes narrowed and Cullen suddenly knew what a rabbit felt like when the wolf spotted it. “How is Dorian?”

He forced himself to relax. “Probably complaining about the cold to anyone who will listen,” he said as casually as he could manage.

“I am surprised you are not playing chess with him instead of rehashing matters that have already been decided.”

Cullen wasn’t quite sure where she was going with this but he could sense some sort of trap. 

“I… suppose I could do that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I had to cancel yesterday’s game because the meeting went so long.”

“Leliana was amused about that,” Cassandra said, looking faintly amused herself. It made Cullen wonder what she’d been told. “The length of the meeting, not you having to cancel your chess game.”

“The Inquisitor and Josephine had some… differences of opinion regarding the ball,” he said dryly. “They’re both very stubborn.”

Cassandra snorted. “That would be the pot calling the kettle black, would it not?” 

“I suppose so,” Cullen said with a wry smile. “Anyway, it took longer than expected to redirect the conversation back to business.”

“So you missed your chess game. You play most days with Dorian, do you not?”

Cullen nodded. “He’s a good opponent.” He chuckled. “Even if he does cheat.”

Cassandra frowned. “How does one cheat at chess?”

“Distract your opponent and move pieces. Or completely remove them from the board. If you’re subtle about it, you can get away with it.” He paused and smirked. “Dorian isn’t very subtle but he is good at distraction.”

“You could do with more distractions,” Cassandra said then she gave him an assessing look. “You have been better lately.”

Cullen shrugged. “It comes and goes. A little more often than I’d like but it’s been manageable.”

“You seem more relaxed after you have spent time with Dorian,” Cassandra observed and Cullen shifted uncomfortably.

“Where are you going with this, Cassandra?”

She didn’t reply at first, simply looked at him as though she was assessing every part of him. It made him nervous and he had a sneaking suspicion that she was going to make him confront things he had been very firmly not thinking about for several weeks now.

“You enjoy spending time with him,” she said implacably and he moved that thought from sneaking suspicion to absolute certainty. He’d make some sort of strategic retreat but he knew it wouldn’t work. Cassandra could be relentless when she wanted to be.

“He’s a friend,” he said, trying not to sound defensive. He didn’t really succeed.

“Or something more?”

Cullen swallowed and stared down at the floor. There it was. He should have known Cassandra wouldn’t sugar coat this or wend her way delicately around to it. She always moved forward firmly and with surety and he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to avoid this.

“I… hadn’t thought about it.”

“Hadn’t thought about or hadn’t _allowed_ yourself to think about it?”

He winced. “The latter.” He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “I… Cassandra, I’m a former Templar. You know my background, you _know_ what I’ve done. I’m not…” He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “He deserves so much better than me.”

And there it was, unspoken but acknowledged finally. He’d been trying to ignore his growing feelings for Dorian but now he could not. Which was a problem because he couldn’t imagine a situation where Dorian would want _him_.

“You are not that man anymore and you know that,” Cassandra said with disapproval. She then arched an eyebrow at him. “And wouldn’t that decision be his and not yours?”

“I…”

“Have you told him of your past?” Cassandra asked, ignoring his attempt to speak.

“No,” Cullen said quickly. “I… we spoke briefly about Samson after Haven but nothing more than that.”

“Perhaps you should tell him, if you think it will affect his regard for you,” Cassandra said.

Cullen winced and rubbed the back of his neck again. He probably should. Dorian deserved that much consideration from him. He just worried that he might lose the man’s friendship. Why would Dorian want anything to do with a man like him?

“Maybe,” he said then he sighed. “Probably.”

Cassandra looked satisfied in a way he didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t the satisfaction of getting her way or anything like that. It was something he didn’t quite understand but didn’t want to ask about.

She pushed away from the table and headed for the door. “He is holed up in his room,” she said as she opened the door. “He would probably welcome a game of chess and some food.”

He watched as she left and the door swung closed behind her. He looked down at the map on the table but quickly gave it up. He wasn’t really seeing anything and even he did, there wasn’t anything to be done. There were no decisions pending and they wouldn’t be receiving any reports until the storm subsided. Not even Leliana’s ravens would be willing to fly in this mess. He sighed and pushed away from the table. Maybe chess and Dorian’s company would be a better option. As for telling the mage about his past… well, he’d see what happened.

Half an hour later, he was bracing himself against the wind as he made his way along the balcony to Dorian’s room. No wonder the mage hadn’t emerged from his rooms if he had to face the weather to get inside the main building. He made a mental note to investigate some sort of roof or shelter along this balcony for the inhabitants of the rooms here. There must surely have been something in the past but the engineers would be able to have a look and tell him if anything had been secured to the walls at any point. That would a good starting point.

He winced at a particularly frigid blast of wind and knocked on Dorian’s door. He had a basket full of food along with a couple of bottles of wine. Apparently the Inquisitor had brought a tray over that morning but he wasn’t willing to try and balance a tray in this weather. The basket was much more convenient.

The door opened to reveal Dorian wearing a soft robe and a distasteful expression on his face. The expression disappeared in an instant and was replaced with a smile when the mage saw who was outside his door and he grabbed Cullen’s arm and dragged him inside.

“Come in and shut the door. This weather is foul.” He peered at the basket in Cullen’s hand. “Have you come to prevent me from starving to death while I’m trapped in here?”

Cullen looked around the room. It was deliciously warm, just as Dorian’s cabin in Haven had been, and there were books all over the place. With the hangings on the wall and the rather sumptuous bed, Dorian had built himself quite a cozy little nest.

“There are worse places to be trapped,” he said, surprised to find that he meant that in an odd way. For all that the room only had a single slim window in the back wall, he didn’t feel claustrophobic in here. He felt… comfortable.

“True but I have no access to the kitchen,” Dorian said, plucking the basket from his hands and placing it on the table. He opened the top and rummaged through, pulling out small loaves of bread and wrapped bundles that reveal ham and cheese and fruit. Then he pulled the two bottles of wine out and made a small sound of surprise. “Aggregio Pavali? How did you get your hands on this?”

“Uh, Josephine let me have it when I explained what I was doing,” Cullen replied. “Why? Is it good?”

Dorian huffed and gave him a scandalised look. “Is it _good_? It’s from Tevinter. Of course it’s _good_. You are truly a savage, Commander. And I have to remember to pester our good Ambassador more. She’s been holding out on me.” He frowned and waved Cullen over. “Sit down. You look like you’re reporting for some sort of dire duty.”

Cullen sat down and pulled off his gauntlets, the remnants of the discussion with Cassandra lingering in his mind and making him feel awkward. 

“I’m just a bit out of sorts,” he said. “Josephine and Cassandra have evicted me from my office. Temporarily anyway.” 

Dorian snorted. “I’m not surprised. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Commander, but there’s a great big hole in your roof.”

“It’s not that bad,” Cullen began then he sighed at Dorian’s unimpressed look. “Alright, it is that bad but I don’t mind it.”

“Obviously,” Dorian said dryly as he poured the wine into two goblets. “Are you fond of freezing, Commander?”

“Cullen.”

“Hmm?” Dorian said as they both started picking at the food.

“It’s my name. You can use it, you know.”

Dorian smiled. “I suppose I can, can’t I? And you’re changing the subject. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Cullen sighed. “I’m… just not overly fond of enclosed spaces. The hole…”

“Ah,” Dorian said with understanding. “Say no more.”

“No mockery?” Cullen said with surprise.

“Yes, well, I’m not overly fond of spiders so who am I to mock?”

“A lot of people aren’t overly fond of spiders,” Cullen said.

“And a lot of people aren’t overly fond of small spaces,” Dorian countered. “I don’t mock people’s fears.” He gave a flash of a grin. “Well, not seriously and not to be unpleasant. Unless they’re enemies then all bets are off.”

“Good to know,” Cullen said with a smile. He took a sip of the wine and raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”

Dorian snorted. “Yes, Commander… Cullen. Oh. That _is_ the good stuff, just so you know.”

“I don’t drink much,” Cullen said, taking another sip. He was no connoisseur of wine but even he could tell the difference between this and what was served in the tavern.

“And I drink too much,” Dorian said with a grin. “Somewhere between us lies the perfect drinker.”

Cullen frowned at that. He knew Dorian drank but if the man was willing to admit it was too much…

“So what prompted your dislike of enclosed spaces?” Dorian asked, dragging Cullen away from his thoughts with a jolt. “Did one of your many siblings lock you in a closet?”

Cullen was silent for a moment too long and he knew it. With that overly long pause, he knew he’d added too much weight to his response. He hadn’t really intended to get into his past with Dorian tonight. It was too soon. He’d wanted to think about it. Or so he’d thought. Perhaps his subconscious had other ideas. And perhaps his subconscious was right. 

“No,” he said hesitantly. “I…” 

He licked his lips then gave a start as Dorian’s hand closed around his.

“You don’t have to answer that,” the mage said quietly. “Feel free to tell me to get my nose out of your business.”

Cullen smiled weakly but didn’t move his hand. “No, I… it’s not that…” He sighed. “It’s been brought to my attention that you don’t know much about me and maybe… maybe you ought to.”

Dorian frowned. “Cullen, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, no matter what anyone else says.”

“No… no, I should.” Cullen shifted in his seat. “I… I haven’t always been a good man and mages are at the heart of that. You… you should know what kind of man you’re dealing with and if you… you don’t wish to deal with me after I’ve told you then… I’ll understand.”

“Well, that’s rather ominous,” Dorian said, looking confused and concerned. “If you wish to tell me, then I will listen but… you don’t _have_ to.”

Cullen gave him a wan smile. “I know.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I joined the Templars when I was thirteen. It was all I’d ever wanted and I was thrilled when they finally accepted me.” He snorted. “I may have had some overly romantic notions about the Order.”

“You were thirteen. I think that’s fairly normal,” Dorian said but he let Cullen continue without further comment.

“Training was hard but I enjoyed it and when I finished, I was assigned to the Circle in Fereldan, Kinloch Hold.” He smiled a little. “I was young and… callow, I suppose. Inexperienced. But it was… I suppose as good as a Circle was going to get. The Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter had their differences on certain subjects but they mostly got along. I never saw any problems but I was young and inexperienced enough that I probably didn’t recognise them.”

He took a drink of wine and noted absently that he and Dorian were still essentially holding hands. He thought about commenting on it but instead continued his story.

“Then some of the mages went to serve King Cailin at Ostagar and when they came back…” He shuddered. “One of them, Uldred... I don’t know whether he’d gone mad or perhaps he’d always been mad and whatever he saw at Ostagar made it worse or maybe he just decided now was the time. I don’t know. All I do know is that he and his followers took over the Circle using blood magic, demons and abominations. The mages either fell in line with him or were killed and the Templars…”

He swallowed hard and didn’t argue when Dorian turned his hand over and laced their fingers together.

“Most of the Templars were killed. Some escaped but the rest of us were… held prisoner just below the Harrowing Chamber. I was one of those.” He licked his lips then took a drink of wine. “I don’t know how long we were there. Weeks, I think. I lost track of time. We were being held behind this magical barrier and one by one, Uldred had the other Templars – my _friends_ – taken up into the Harrowing Chamber. I’m not sure what happened to them but the screaming…”

He set the goblet down and ran a shaking hand down his face. “I don’t know why Uldred left me alive. Maybe it was because I was young and my reactions… amused him. He… he tortured me. With his demons and his lackeys.” He knew his face was pale and he was shaking then he felt Dorian’s thumb making gentle circles on the back of his hand. It was more soothing than he’d expected. “They’d withhold lyrium and food and water until I did what…”

He broke off and swallowed. He gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t know how long it was until the Hero of Fereldan showed up. She came charging in with King Alistair and Leliana and another Circle mage called Wynne. I wasn’t sure they were real at first and I couldn’t believe they were trying to save the Circle.”

Now he finally raised his eyes to meet Dorian’s. He wasn’t sure what the mage could see in his eyes but all he could see in Dorian’s was concern and worry. He was sure to wipe that out with everything that was to come.

“I insisted they should destroy all the mages,” he admitted, his eyes dropping to stare at the floor again. “Even after they’d defeated Uldred and freed me. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that the mages who survived were untouched. I was… irrational.”

“You’d been tortured, half-starved and probably in and out of lyrium withdrawal and all of this had been done to you by mages,” Dorian said with a soft snort. “Of course you were irrational and angry at the mages, Cullen. I’d have been shocked if you weren’t.”

Cullen managed a ghost of a smile but still couldn’t bring himself to look at the other man. “They kept me at the Circle for a while but I was… unstable. Angry. Afraid. Then these three apprentice mages…” He let out a sound that might have been a sob. “They were young and they just… lost control of a spell. It wasn’t anything serious. Nothing that a thousand apprentices hadn’t done before. I… overreacted. I used Shatter instead of Purge.”

Dorian winced. Having experienced Cullen’s Purge, which was still strong even after months of no lyrium, he had some idea of what he must have done to those young mages. It was shocking to hear of this, to realise that Cullen – good honest sweet Cullen who had held him, a _mage_ , so gently when they’d shared a bedroll on the trip here – could do something like that. It was even more shocking to hear that the Order had obviously done so little to help him. Why had they kept a clearly traumatised young man at the Circle surrounded by mages? It was just asking for trouble and trouble was obviously what they’d ended up with.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

“They… I didn’t kill them,” Cullen admitted, sounding pained. “But they were hurt and every mage in the place started flinching away from me. Knight-Commander Gregoir sent me to the Chantry at Greenfell to recover.”

“There were healers there who could help you?” Dorian asked.

Cullen shook his head. “No, but there were no mages. He hoped I’d… level out a bit there.”

As much as he hated seeing the man looking so despondent, Dorian was glad Cullen was still staring at the floor. It meant he couldn’t see the livid expression that he was sure was on his face. The Order had done _nothing_ for Cullen. Absolutely _nothing_. They left this traumatised broken man to attempt to pick up the pieces on his own, something at which he’d clearly been failing. They’d let Cullen’s fear and anger start to consume him without doing a damn thing about it. He felt a shiver at what else Cullen had to say about his past if he’d been left to simmer and stew in his anger and hatred instead of being helped. 

“Did you?” he asked once he was sure he had himself under control.

“I suppose,” Cullen said with a one shouldered shrug. “I was transferred to Kirkwall under Knight-Commander Meredith. She… was sympathetic. Or at least she seemed that way. I know now that she was manipulating me, feeding my fears and anger so that I wouldn’t question what she was doing. I followed her so blindly and when she promoted me to Knight-Captain I was so proud. I was not a good man, Dorian. The things I did, the things I turned a blind eye to, that I allowed to happen. I thought I was justified. I kept reminding myself of Uldred and convinced myself I was completely justified in what I was doing and what I allowed to happen. I was a fool.”

Dorian sat silently. He’d heard the storied about what had happened in Kirkwall. He might be the pariah, the _evil Tevinter Magister_ , but that didn’t mean he was entirely excluded, especially when the gossip started. In fact, a few mages had used Kirkwall as a starting point to ask about the Imperium, assuming it must be a mage paradise. He’d taken care to disabuse them of that idea while still admitting it was a damn sight better than the Southern Circles.

But the idea that _Cullen_ had done those things made him feel sick. He’d been one of the Templars the mages had been talking about. Somehow Dorian had convinced himself that Cullen had been a beacon of goodness, fighting against Meredith’s evil. Now here was the admission that he hadn’t. He’d marched along to Meredith’s tune and had done so willingly. It made him feel cold and tight as he realised Cullen was speaking again.

“I like to think I would have realised what I was doing and how wrong it was on my own,” Cullen was saying. “Though Maker knows how long that would have taken. But Hawke was there.” He gave a breath of a laugh. “Hawke, the apostate mage that Meredith couldn’t touch. How she hated that. He challenged me every time we met. I’d say something utterly _stupid_ about mages and Hawke would pull me up, challenge me and force me to _think_. I’ll admit I resisted at first but then… well, he’d started me thinking again instead of just reacting and once that happened…” He made a sound that was definitely a sob but Dorian couldn’t move, wasn’t sure if he wanted to. “I couldn’t stop. I faced what I’d been doing and I… I was disgusted with myself. I couldn’t believe I’d… sunk so low.”

Dorian could hear the anger, the sorrow and the self-loathing in Cullen’s voice. He wanted to say something soothing but he still hadn’t quite moved past the idea that Cullen had been cruel or even worse to mages, to people like _him_. It didn’t match with what he knew of the man now but why would Cullen lie to him?

“I started trying to turn everything around,” Cullen continued in a dreary tone. “Started trying to stop reacting automatically to mages. That was hard. It was so ingrained by then but I was determined. I started clawing my way out from that abyss I’d thrown myself into so willingly. That was when I realised that Meredith had been keeping things from me. Terrible things. If I’d known about them…” He shook his head. “I would have protested against them, even at my worst. I think she knew that I still had some limits so she kept them from me, even though as her second in command, I should have known about them.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Then the Chantry was blown up by Anders. Meredith just… lost it. I think she’d been on the verge of madness for a while and this tipped her over the edge. In the end, I fought alongside Hawke and his friends. I had to. She was wrong. She was mad.” He shook his head. “Afterwards… I let Hawke and his friends go. It was an easy decision to make and not just because I knew how fiercely they’d fight if I tried to stop them. I turned the Templars to helping in the city, getting rid of any remaining demons and abominations and then assisting in the rebuilding. When Cassandra came, she offered me a position in the Inquisition and I… I took it. I couldn’t stay with the Order and I saw the Inquisition as my way of… redeeming myself.”

A heavy, strained silence fell in the room when Cullen stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to face Dorian though he noticed that they were still holding hands. He took that as a good sign, though Dorian’s continued silence was making his shoulders slump.

“Should I… should I go?” he finally asked, his voice soft.

He felt his heart sink as Dorian extracted his hand and got to his feet, putting some distance between them. In the wake of his confession, he could finally admit to himself that he liked Dorian a great deal, far more than he ought to. And it was perhaps far more than just _liking_ him. Which had a certain bitter irony to it given he had just revealed things that were more than likely going to prompt the man’s rejection at the very least and outright hatred at the worst.

“I think you should,” Dorian said, sounding distant.

Cullen swallowed past the lump in his throat and stood. He picked up his gauntlets and headed for the door, his steps heavy and his heart leaden.

“Dorian, I…” he began when he rested his hand on the door handle. He swallowed and shook his head. “Forgive me,” he whispered before opening the door and heading out into the storm.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian needs to sort things out in his mind. Bull helps. Sort of. Beware the dangers of maaras-lok.

Maxwell Trevelyan slid into the seat next to Cassandra and looked around the hall with concern. For once, his usual nervousness about approaching the love of his life… er, the Seeker… was muted. With the storm still raging outside, long trestle tables had been set up in the main hall and nearly everyone had been there for dinner, including Dorian because Maxwell had gone and dragged him out of his den. 

While it probably hadn’t been overly obvious to most, Maxwell had certainly noticed when Dorian and Cullen had sat as far as humanly possible from each other. It had been more than that though. Dorian’s behaviour had been mostly normal, if a little more brittle than usual, but Cullen had been subdued and withdrawn. He’d sat at the end of the table closest to the door to Solas’ rotunda and had spoken little and eaten less, shooting the occasional wary glance in Dorian’s direction before quickly looking away. He’d then disappeared through the door as soon as the meal had ended, though Maxwell couldn’t imagine where he’d gone. He knew the Commander had been forbidden from using his office while the storm raged.

He hesitated for a moment then decided to just forge ahead. Cassandra had always appreciated directness.

“What’s going on with Dorian and Cullen?”

Cassandra arched an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

“You must have noticed what they were like tonight,” Maxwell said with a frown. 

Cassandra glanced over at Dorian and then to where Cullen had been sitting. “I believe Cullen has told Dorian about his past,” she said with a sigh. “I had hoped it would go better.”

“Oh,” Maxwell said with surprise. “That’s… why would he do that?”

“Because if things are to progress between them, Dorian needs to know who Cullen is now and who he has been in the past,” she said. “It was never something that could remain a secret and it would always be better for Dorian to find out from Cullen than someone else, who would likely only know rumour and hearsay. Only Cullen can tell him the truth.”

Maxwell frowned. He could see the logic in that. There were a lot of stories and rumours floating around about Cullen and there was no way Dorian could avoid them forever, even if he tried. It was probably better for Cullen to be upfront about it and to let it come from him. If he delayed telling Dorian, it could look like he was trying to hide his past and that would only make it worse.

“Wait,” he said, looking curiously at Cassandra. “Are you… I thought you said you weren’t shoving them together.”

“I am not,” Cassandra said imperiously, though Maxwell noted the faint hint of pink on her cheeks. “I am merely… clearing the obstacles to anything that might happen.”

“You told Cullen to tell him?”

“I did,” she replied then she frowned. “Dorian deserved to know.”

Maxwell sighed. “I suppose he did but… I’m not sure it’s worked.”

“Only time will tell,” Cassandra replied.

Maxwell rattled his fingers against the table as he looked over at Dorian. He wanted to go over and talk to the man but there was an edge about Dorian’s manner that made him feel that anything he said would not go down well. A movement from the other side of the hall caught his eye and he turned to find Bull looking at him. As he met the Qunari’s eye, Bull nodded towards Dorian and then gestured to himself. Maxwell hesitated then nodded. Dorian obviously needed someone’s company and maybe Bull would be the best.

Dorian knew he’d had far too much to drink. He’d polished off the bottle of Agreggio he and Cullen had been drinking then he’d had several glasses of wine with dinner. However he didn’t feel as drunk as he knew he was. Everything that Cullen had told him kept thumping around his head and it had an irritatingly sobering effect. He’d really much rather get blindly drunk tonight and cope with it all in the morning. 

And of course it had been made worse by Cullen’s miserable appearance at the other end of the room. He’d been almost hyperaware of the other man despite the crowd in the hall. Cullen had looked like a dog that had been whipped and beaten and it made Dorian’s heart ache. But the things he’d been told were still hammering around his head and he didn’t trust himself near the other man right now. He needed to think and until he had the time to do that, he was liable to say things he would come to regret later. He wasn’t going to subject Cullen to that.

“Hey, Vint,” Bull said as he dropped heavily into the seat neck to Dorian’s, causing the poor beleaguered piece of furniture to creak and groan painfully. He slung an arm over Dorian’s shoulders, his thumb rubbing the shorn side of the mage’s head in a gesture that was surprisingly comforting.

“Oh, what do you want, you great lummox?” Dorian grumbled.

Bull grinned. “Got some maaras-lok tucked away downstairs. You look like you need it.”

Dorian was fairly sure he _didn’t_ need it and that drinking it would be something he’d _deeply_ regret tomorrow morning but he decided to do it anyway. He knew he was opening himself up to being dissected by the Ben-Hassrath spy but maybe that might do him some good.

“Oh, fine.”

Bull slapped on the shoulder. “Excellent! Come on. Let’s head down.”

Dorian got to his feet and followed Bull down to the Inquisitor’s not-so-secret cellar where all the dubious bottles of liquor they found were stored. Dorian poked around at the shelves and tried not to look appalled.

“He’s kept these?”

“Why not?”

“I doubt any of them are even remotely drinkable.” Dorian prodded at one bottle. “Didn’t we find this one in one of the houses in Crestwood that had been drowned and filled with corpses?”

“That just adds some character to it,” Bull said with a grin as he groped around on one of the top shelves. “Aha! Here it is.”

He pulled a dusty sinuous bottle down and pulled the cork with his teeth. He took a long drink then coughed explosively.

“Ahhh! Now that’s more like it.” He held the bottle out to Dorian. “Drink up.”

Dorian eyed the bottle as though it was a live snake then sighed and grabbed it. “This better not kill me.”

“Drink up,” Bull said, dropping down to sit on the floor with his back to the wall. “It’ll put chest on your chest.”

Dorian snorted sourly and took a swig. He almost dropped the bottle as the maaras-lok burned its way down his throat. “Maker’s breath!” he gasped.

“Haha!” Bull said, taking the bottle from him and pulling him down to sit next to him, tucked up against his warmth. “Burns, doesn’t it? Don’t worry. After the second drink all the nerve endings in your throat will be dead and it’ll go down easy.”

Dorian let himself to be manoeuvred then he made a sound like a disgruntled cat. “You’re not exactly making the good sell, Bull.”

“Maaras-lok doesn’t need a good sell,” Bull replied. “It’s not for social drinking. It’s for getting good and drunk.”

“Well, that’s different then,” Dorian said snidely.

Bull chuckled and passed the bottle back to him. Dorian took another swig and coughed as the liquid burned its way down. Adding it to the alcohol he’d already drunk was finally having an effect and he curled up against Bull with a small noise of distress.

“Alright, Vint, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Dorian said in a sulky tone he was fairly sure he hadn’t used since he was about twelve.

“Ha!” Bull said, taking the bottle and drinking. “Yesterday you and Cullen were thick as thieves. Today, he looks like a puppy you kicked across the room.”

Dorian whined. “I didn’t kick him across the room. I didn’t… I just…” 

He snatched the bottle back and took a huge swig. He coughed and nearly choked and Bull slapped on the back firmly until he waved at the Qunari to stop. 

“You just what?” Bull said with sudden softness.

Dorian sighed and curled up against Bull again. “I just need to think.”

“About what?”

Dorian was silent. His head was swimming and his _teeth_ actually felt numb. He sighed. “Cullen did horrible things.”

“Back when he was a Templar in Kirkwall?”

Dorian frowned and levered himself upright enough to look at Bull. “What?”

Bull rolled his eye. “The old Arishok was in Kirkwall for years. He might have had a fair chunk of the Antaam with him but he had a few Ben-Hassrath as well. We got the reports and when they sent me here, they gave me info on everyone, including Cullen.”

“You knew?” Dorian said indignantly. “You never said!”

“Wasn’t my place to say,” Bull said with a shrug. “We also had reports about what happened in Kinloch Hold from a Sten who travelled with the Hero of Fereldan for a while during the Blight. Sounds like Cullen went through hell.”

Dorian frowned and slumped back against Bull. “He did. At the hands of mages.”

“Can’t have been easy to deal with,” Bull observed.

“Especially as the Templar Order did nothing to help him,” Dorian hissed angrily. 

“Yeah?” Bull said as he offered the bottle to him again. Dorian took a drink without thinking. Or coughing. 

“They just… did nothing,” Dorian snapped. “Until he hurt some poor apprentices and then all they did was send him off to some isolated chantry.”

“Better than keeping him around mages, yeah?”

Dorian lurched to his feet and paced across the small room somehow managing to keep his footing despite the fact he was swaying and weaving. “That’s not the point! They should have _helped_ him. Not just let it all _fester_ inside him.”

“Must have done some good or he wouldn’t have been sent to Kirkwall,” Bull said, waving his hand for the bottle.

Dorian made a noise like an affronted cat and handed the bottle over. “Ha! That woman only wanted him _because_ of what he went through. It was obvious from what he said. She wanted a nice obedient bunch of soldiers who all hated mages. So she took a traumatised boy and made it worse!”

“And he did terrible things,” Bull said with a nod.

Dorian slumped against the wall and let himself slide down. He wrapped his arms around his legs. “He did. He… didn’t say what but I’ve heard the stories.” He narrowed his eyes at Bull. “You know, don’t you? You know exactly what he did.”

Bull shrugged. “I’ve read what’s in the reports.”

“How bad is it?”

Bull gave him a long look then shifted over to sit next to him, pulling him close beside him again. “You don’t want to know, Dorian.”

“Yes, I do,” Dorian said sulkily.

“No, you don’t,” Bull replied very firmly. “Yeah, he did some pretty crappy things. Mages got hurt, they got made Tranquil and they even died.”

Dorian made a small distressed noise. “I don’t want him to have done that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bull said. “But he did.” He looked down at Dorian. “Afraid he’s going to do that to you?”

“No!” The word burst out of Dorian before he could even think. Even after he started thinking, albeit drunkenly, he still wouldn’t change that answer. “No, he wouldn’t do that to me or any mage here.”

“Why not?” Bull said with artful casualness. “He’s done it before, could easily do it again.”

Dorian pulled away and got to his knees, glaring at Bull. “He’s not that man anymore!”

“Really?” Bull said dubiously. 

“He’s not!” Dorian snapped. “He’s _afraid_ of hurting me when we work together.” He paused and frowned. “It’s rather annoying since I know he’s holding back and how are we supposed to get a proper idea of what’s going on if he keeps holding back?”

“So?” Bull said with a snort. “That doesn’t mean much.”

“He slept with me!” Dorian said then he blushed.

“Didn’t think you two had gone that far,” Bull said with a chuckle.

Dorian slumped down against the Qunari. “We haven’t,” he said sulkily. “We shared a bedroll on the way here. It was all very sweet and warm and lovely and _platonic_ and why would he be like that if he was still the man he was in Kirkwall?”

Bull grinned at him and Dorian frowned. He gave a huff as he realised what Bull had been doing and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you have to do that?”

Bull chuckled again. “Get you drunk enough so I could get you thinking instead of just reacting? Yeah, I did. Because if I didn’t, you two would wind yourselves up into knots and make the entire damn stronghold miserable for _days_. Consider this a pre-emptive strike.”

“I’m going to have a hangover tomorrow and it’s going to be awful,” Dorian pouted. “I hate you.”

“You should go find Cullen and cuddle up to him,” Bull suggested. “He’ll be way more sympathetic than me.”

“Would he want me to cuddle up to him?” Dorian said plaintively. “I told him to leave today after he poured his heart out. That was…”

“Perfectly understandable,” Bull finished for him. “He’s not going to come to you, Dorian. He’s going to wait for you to come to him. He kind of has to at this point. So you can go find him and cuddle and make us all happy or wait and we’re going to have to put up with a miserable Commander. No one wants that, Dorian. A miserable Commander is almost as bad as a miserable Krem and I don’t let that happen.”

Dorian considered that for a moment. “That may be the oddest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“True though,” Bull said. He got up and bodily lifted Dorian on to his feet. “Now go find Cullen. You two have things to talk about but trust me on this, Dorian, cuddling comes first.”

“I’m taking advice on my love life from a Qunari spy,” Dorian said to no one in particular. “My life has taken a distinct turn for the strange.”

Bull chuckled. “Dorian? _Cullen_. Go find Cullen.”

“Hmm, yes.”

Dorian turned to make his way out of the cellar but the sudden movement caused all the alcohol sloshing around in his brain to rise up in a tidal wave that crashed over him and he rather unceremoniously passed out. Bull lunged forward and caught him.

“Well, that didn’t go quite as planned,” he muttered.

He looked down at the unconscious mage then shrugged and slung him over his shoulder. He made his way upstairs and out into the hall, which had quietened down considerably in the time they’d been drinking. He ambled towards the door to the library where a chuckling Varric watched him approach.

“I thought you said you were going to talk to him and get him to go to Curly, not get him pass out drunk.”

“I may have slightly misjudged the amount of maaras-lok I poured into him,” Bull said ruefully. “He must have had more to drink before dinner than I thought. He’s a sneaky little Vint to be able to hide that from me.”

“He’s going to hate you tomorrow for that hangover, Tiny,” Varric said with an amused shake of his head.

“Just as long as he remembers what I said.” He looked around. “Where did Cullen go anyway?”

“I checked. According to Chuckles, he was moping in Sparkler’s chair when he got back in after dinner and then he tried heading for his office before he remembered he’d been banished,” Varric said. “He came back in here and got waylaid by the Inquisitor but since the two of them disappeared down towards the War Room with Nightingale and Ruffles, I’m assuming some sort of message made it through this mess.”

“Probably for the best he’s distracted,” Bull replied. “This one’s not in any fit state to sort things out.”

“That’s your fault, Tiny,” Varric said, pointing a finger at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bull said amiably. “I’m going to put him to bed. Let’s all hope he doesn’t decide to play bashful tomorrow and avoid Cullen.”

“I’m torn between wanting to add to the drama of it all and being too old for all this shit,” Varric said with a grin.

“Well, I’m definitely too old for all this shit so I’m going to vote for that one,” Bull said before giving Varric a wave and heading off for Dorian’s room.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small chapter to tide you over while I work on the next one. Which will be a big one. I think. Most likely anyway. :D
> 
> Dorian rues the entire existence of maaras-lok and Maxwell has a letter Dorian needs to see.
> 
> A lot of the dialogue here will be familiar with only a few changes based on previous events in the story.

Dorian tossed the book he had decidedly _not_ been reading to the floor and got up from his armchair with a huff to lean against the wall and look out the window. The storm had passed during the night and the denizens of Skyhold were busy digging the fortress out of all the snow that had been dumped into the grounds. It was all very industrious even with Sera lobbing snowballs at people and inciting periodic snowball fights.

He’d woken up that morning extraordinarily hungover but at least in his bed, which had been vaguely worrying. Though at least he’d been alone and dressed but for his boots. While he was no stranger to getting drunk, it had been a long time since he’d gotten himself so drunk he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten to his room. He’d had several rude things to say about Bull and his maaras-lok and had then regretted them because even the sound of his own voice had made his head pound. All in all, it had taken him until well after midday to emerge from his room.

He’d ensconced himself in his little niche in the library and steadfastly ignored everyone. No one, including the Inquisitor, seemed inclined to bother him today for which he was entirely grateful. He had too much to think about and no desire to talk it out with anyone beyond what had happened with Bull the previous night. He remembered that much of the night at least. It was a little fuzzy around the edges but he certainly remembered what had been said and more importantly, he remembered the point Bull had been trying to make.

Cullen _had_ been that man, yes. As much as he hated to think of it and certainly as much as Cullen had hated telling him, the Commander had once been the feared Knight-Captain of Kirkwall that he’d heard about in the rumour and tales. He expected that some of what was in the rumours and tales was exaggerated but, from what Bull had said, not as much as he’d thought… and hoped. It made his heart ache to think of it and that in itself was a revelation.

He knew he’d been harbouring something of a crush on the man, if one wanted to use such a term, but he’d steadfastly refused to allow himself to consider it anything more than that. But would mere friendship or a trivial _crush_ have left him feeling so devastated by what Cullen had told him? Even knowing that, while Cullen _had_ been that man, he was no longer didn’t make the hurt any less painful.

No, he was going to have to face the truth and _that_ was why he was lurking up here instead of following Bull’s advice. Because facing the idea of _love_ , that he might actually _love_ another man, had him terrified. His country’s distaste, his _father’s_ distaste, too much of a raw, festering wound to let him feel anything else.

“Dorian?”

The mage gave a start at the sound of the Inquisitor’s tentative enquiry. He quickly plastered the best approximation of his usual mask on his face to hide his rattled and fragile emotions and turned around.

“Inquisitor!” he said with a great deal of false cheer. “What brings you to my lair this fine morning?”

Maxwell blinked at Dorian’s greeting and his worry cranked up a notch or three. Whatever Dorian was this morning, ‘ _fine_ ’ did not even begin to encompass it. Yet from the brittle edge to Dorian’s smile and his tone of voice, he knew that any enquiries about last night or what had passed between him and Cullen would likely bring vitriol raining down on his head. And then Dorian would feel guilty and the whole mess would get worse. 

He glanced down at the letter in his hand and realised that this wasn’t likely to make things much better but he’d been sitting on this for three weeks now and his guilt at hiding it was eating away at him.

“Erm,” he said awkwardly. “I have a… a letter.”

Dorian smirked. “A letter! Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?”

Maxwell blinked then shook his head. “Um, no. It’s… it’s from your father.”

All the humour drained from Dorian in an instant and Maxwell saw a hint of rage flare in the man’s eyes. Dorian had told him that he was estranged from his family but that anger seemed to indicate that the trouble might run deeper than he’d thought.

“From my father?” Dorian said flatly. “I see. And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?”

“A meeting,” Maxwell replied.

Dorian’s eyes narrowed and he held out one hand. “Show me this letter.”

Maxwell wasted no time in handing it over. Dorian snatched it away and started reading it, pacing back and forth in the small space, indignation rapidly growing on his face.

“I know my son,” Dorian said, quoting a line from the letter with contempt. “What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble. This is so _typical_.” Now anger mixed with the contempt. “I’m willing to bet this retainer is henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter.”

Maxwell frowned. “This could be the Venatori. Lure us somewhere remote, then an ambush.”

Dorian was startled at that idea and he looked down at the letter. “Perhaps. Although this does look like my father’s penmanship. _Or_ … could he have joined the Venatori?” He shook his head. He could believe much of his father but not that. Not really. “No. That can’t… well, anything’s possible.” He straightened and folded the letter. “Let’s go. Let’s meet this so-called family retainer. If it’s a trap, we escape and kill everyone. You’re good at that. If it’s not, I send the man back to my father with a message that he can stick his alarm in his wit’s end.”

Maxwell looked down at his boots for a moment before venturing carefully, “There seems to be bad blood between you and your family.”

Dorian laughed, a bitter sound that made Maxwell wince. “Interesting turn of phrase but you’re correct. They don’t care for my choices…” An edge of bitter venom crept into his voice no matter how much he tried to stop it. “Nor I for theirs.”

Maxwell frowned, remembering the conversation he’d had with Dorian in Crestwood. How he’d mentioned his preference for men was considered shameful in Tevinter. Was that the source of the bad blood? It seemed entirely possible.

“You should meet with this retainer,” he said carefully. “Find out what your family wants.”

“I didn’t ask what _you_ thought, did I?” Dorian snapped then he sighed and shot Maxwell an apologetic look. “That… was unworthy. I apologise. There’d be no harm in hearing what this man of my father’s has to say.” He gathered some of his normal manner around himself. “If I don’t like it however, I want to leave.”

“That works for me,” Maxwell said with a small smile. He felt rather like he’d stepped into some sort of bog, with quicksand and vicious little creatures ready to bite all around.

“I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around just in case I showed?” Dorian mused with a bit of hidden savage glee at the idea of draining his father’s wallet even just a little.

Maxwell gave a wan smile. “Well, I’d imagine whatever the amount is, it’s been piling up.” He gestured towards the letter. “I’ve… had that for a few weeks now. I wasn’t entirely sure how to tell you.”

Dorian looked startled then he laughed. “Normally I’d be a little cross at you keeping something like this from me but under the circumstances, I forgive you entirely.”

Maxwell laughed. “I, uh, thought we could leave today, if that’s alright. It’s late but we should make the first camp just after nightfall if we don’t delay too much.”

Dorian hesitated for a moment, the situation with Cullen suddenly crowding back into his mind. He didn’t really want to leave this hanging between them but he also had no idea what to say to the man. Bull’s idea of cuddling was… enticing but in the cold light of day, seemed more ludicrous than sensible. Perhaps a little distance might be valuable, even if the mission, such as it was, was an unpleasant prospect.

“Yes, that’s… fine,” Dorian said then he gave Maxwell a nod. “Let me just gather my things, Inquisitor, and I shall be with you momentarily.”

He pushed past and headed for the door to his room. Maxwell watched him go and chewed on his bottom lip. Cassandra had seemed to think that giving them a little enforced space might help matters and allow Dorian time to think things through. Maxwell wasn’t as convinced. The advice was good and he’d taken it despite his misgivings. He just hoped, with whatever this bad blood was between Dorian and his father, that he didn’t make things worse.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's office takes the brunt of the storm and Dorian gets back from Redcliffe. It went about as well as you might imagine. Finally, the Inquisitor's meddling does what he wants it to.

Cullen returned to his office after the storm passed and what he found managed to distract him from his aching heart and dark thoughts. The storm had torn away more of his ceiling and his personal quarters had been buried in snow. His clothes and what few personal effects he had were either in the main keep or locked away in a trunk but everything else upstairs was ruined, up to and including his bed. His office had been left relatively unscathed, though snow had piled up where it was not protected by the upper level. 

“Maker’s breath,” he muttered. This wasn’t what he needed on top of everything else.

“It was bound to happen at some point,” Cassandra said, patting his shoulder sympathetically. She had accompanied him for reasons she refused to explain but he suspected had to do with what had happened with Dorian.

Cullen sighed. “I know. I just…”

Cassandra patted his shoulder again. “Leave it with me. I believe I have an idea.”

Cullen nodded absently and waded through the snow to rescue the trunk that held the remainder of his belongings. Wrestling it down the ladder was a challenge and he reluctantly carried it across the walkway to his temporary room. He was going to need to emphasise the fact that the room was temporary to Josephine and almost as if he’d conjured her, he was waylaid by the Ambassador as he walked back through the main hall after dropping the trunk off.

“Commander! Cassandra has informed me of what has happened to your office.”

“The office is _fine_ ,” Cullen said firmly.

“Your room is not,” Josephine said tartly. “Are you sure I cannot simply assign you rooms here in the…”

“No,” Cullen said, trying not to snap at the Ambassador. He licked his lips and drew in a deep breath, shooting an apologetic look at Josephine, which she accepted with a small smile and a nod. “I like my office and my room. I’d rather fix it.”

And hope that the fix didn’t leave him with the crawling claustrophobia that had led to him spending almost the entire trip on the deck when they’d sailed from Kirkwall to Fereldan. He needed what sleep he could possibly manage with all the work he had on his plate.

“Very well.” Josephine looked like she wanted to argue the point some more but she conceded on the matter. “Cassandra has said she will oversee the repairs as long as I give her free reign.”

Cullen looked confused. “She has?”

“She insisted,” Josephine replied. She looked baffled as well. “She would not explain why however.”

“Well then, she probably won’t tell me either,” Cullen said wryly.

Josephine smiled. “She does get stubborn sometimes.” She eyed him beadily for a moment. “In the meantime, I have organised a temporary office for you. We have all the means on hand for the repairs so it should take no more than two or three days.”

“Thank you, Ambassador,” Cullen said. 

The rest of his day was occupied with transferring the contents of his office to his temporary quarters. It kept him busy and he was grateful for that, even if the reason wasn’t a good one. If he hadn’t been busy, he would have been thinking about Dorian and that would have just made things worse. He had to wait for Dorian to think things through and come to him. If he came to him. 

It was only when he turned up in the main hall for dinner that he noticed the absence of the Inquisitor and Dorian, along with Varric and Blackwall. He hesitated for a moment then gave a start when Leliana tucked her hand around his arm and led him over to the table.

“The Inquisitor has taken Dorian to the Hinterlands. Redcliffe to be precise,” she said quietly.

Cullen was silent as they sat down. “Why?” he finally said.

“A family matter for Dorian.”

“What kind of family matter?” Cullen asked, worry suddenly flooding through him.

“I don’t know,” Leliana replied and Cullen looked at her askance. She didn’t even bat an eyelid and he knew that even if she did know, which she undoubtedly did, she wasn’t going to tell him. 

“They should be back within the week,” she continued serenely.

Cullen sighed when he realised that was all he was going to get out of the Spymaster and sat down to eat. Leliana sat down on one side and Cassandra took the seat on the other with Josephine beside her. He sighed again at the fact they were clearly ganging up on his again and resigned himself to their particular brand of concern.

Leliana’s estimation proved to be correct. Six days after they left, the Inquisitor, Dorian and the others came riding back through the gates. Cullen did not go down to meet them, though he did venture out onto the battlements to watch as they rode in. They looked uninjured and he let out a sigh of relief. 

He retreated back into his office and sat down at his desk. The repairs Cassandra had organised had been completed three days ago and he was still somewhat in awe of what she’d done in such a short time. The roof had been completely fixed but instead of enclosing the room completely, the section that had originally been open to the elements had been covered with specially treated Serault glass. It also included a cleverly designed window section so that he could open it up to allow in fresh air if he wanted. It had been the perfect solution to keeping the adverse weather out but still making the room seem open. He’d hardly known how to thank Cassandra for thinking of it.

Dagna had ensured that the window would hold against just about anything the elements could throw at it, something she’d explained _very_ enthusiastically and with much in the way of hand waving. Cullen hadn’t understood half of it but she’d been so happy at what she’d done that he’d let her go on anyway. Too many people, including himself at times, tended to cut her off and frankly her enthusiasm had been a balm to the dark and dreary thoughts that had been plaguing him.

He picked up the report he’d been reading and stared down at it, not seeing a single word. He was still doing that and trying to work out what he should do now that Dorian was back in Skyhold when there was a single knock on the door and Trevelyan slipped in. The man looked worried and uncertain, much like he had in his early days as the Herald of Andraste, and Cullen half-rose to his feet, a feeling of dread settling in his chest.

“Inquisitor?” he asked carefully.

Maxwell chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Leliana said she told you we were dealing a family matter for Dorian?”

Cullen nodded. “Yes but nothing more than that.”

Maxwell nodded jerkily then drew in a deep breath. “Go to him, Cullen.” He raised a hand in a helpless gesture. “I know… sort of… what happened between the two of you and I know you think you should wait for him and normally I’d agree.” He stopped his babble and drew in another deep breath before letting it out slowly. “Go to him,” he said firmly. “He needs you. I can’t help him with this and neither can anyone else.”

Cullen stared at the Inquisitor for a moment then gave the man a nod and strode out of his office without another word. He ignored everyone he passed as he made his way up to Dorian’s room then he hesitated outside the door before knocking.

“Kaffas!” came the shaky, harsh cry from the room. “Go away!”

Cullen hesitated for a moment. “Dorian? It’s… it’s me. Cullen.”

Silence greeted his words then the door opened a little. Cullen’s eyes widened when he saw Dorian. The mage looked drawn and distraught. His hair looked like he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly and even his moustache was slightly askew. 

“Oh, what do you _want_?” Dorian snapped. The words might have been harsh but they were said with such anguish that Cullen was inclined to ignore them.

“What happened?” he said, one hand reaching out towards Dorian before he stopped and forced it back down by his side.

“As if you don’t know,” Dorian said in biting tones. 

He strode away and started pacing wildly but he’d left the door open so Cullen took that as unspoken permission to enter. He slipped inside and closed the door but ventured no further into the room.

“I _don’t_ know,” Cullen said quietly. “All Leliana would tell me was that you were dealing with a family matter.”

Dorian stopped his frenetic movement and stood still with his back to Cullen. His shoulders were slumped in a way Cullen had never seen before. He certainly seen Dorian exhausted but this wasn’t weariness. This was despair and defeat and his heart lurched at seeing it. 

“Dorian?”

The mage sighed and trembled where he was standing before he abruptly turned and threw himself at Cullen. The Commander’s eyes widened with surprise and his back thumped against the door at the sudden impact. Then he realised that Dorian was clinging to him like he was an anchor in a storm and shaking uncontrollably. He wasn’t _quite_ crying but he was damn close to it. Cullen didn’t even think before wrapping his arms around the mage and making the same quiet soothing sounds he remembered his mother using when he or his siblings were hurt.

Dorian drew in a sharp, shaking breath and buried his face in Cullen’s fur mantle. From the change in tenor of his trembling and his small gasps, he truly _was_ crying now. Cullen made no comment on it nor did he ask any questions. He just held Dorian and gave him the comfort he was seeking.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Dorian finally seemed to calm. When he did, the mage seemed to realise where he was and what he was doing and he stiffened as he raised his head.

“I… apologise,” he said hesitantly as he tried to pull away. “Limpet impressions as so…”

Cullen pulled him back close, which made his attempt at deflection die away. He held himself tense for a moment then relaxed into Cullen’s embrace again. He wasn’t sure what this was or what it meant but he _liked_ being here, in Cullen’s arms, leaning against his strong body. It made him feel safe and secure and after what had happened in Redcliffe, he craved that in ways that made him feel almost embarrassed.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Cullen murmured.

Dorian shuddered and pressed closer. “Can we… can we sit down?” He hesitated for a moment then tapped one finger against Cullen’s breastplate. “And would you take this off?”

Cullen didn’t ask any questions. He pulled off his mantle and placed it around Dorian’s shoulders before going to work on the straps of his armour. Dorian knew he was blushing but he didn’t quite care at the moment. Instead, all he did was go and sit on the bed and bury his face in the fur around his shoulders. It smelled of leather and metal and sword oil and _Cullen_ and he closed his eyes as he breathed it in, letting it calm him.

He opened his eyes when Cullen sat down next to him in only his breeches and the thin linen shirt he wore under his armour. He nudged the man backwards until they were sitting fully on the bed with their backs to the wall. Then he curled into the Commander with an unspoken request that Cullen fulfilled by wrapping his arm around his shoulders. 

Dorian had no idea where this was going or even what it really was. He knew what he wanted it to be and from Cullen’s actions, it seemed he wanted the same. It had occurred to him on the trip to Redcliffe that Cullen’s revelations could well have been a move to lay all his cards on the table before seeking something more serious so that Dorian would know all of who he was. The idea both thrilled and terrified him. He had no experience with relationships beyond the casual and superficial and Cullen was so damaged. But then, so was he and he was sure the Commander needed someone more… whole than him. Less broken at any rate.

“My father was waiting for me in Redcliffe,” he finally said.

Cullen frowned. He’d garnered enough from their conversations while playing chess and during their training to know that Dorian was estranged from his family but little more than that. Dorian had always shied away from the subject and he hadn’t wanted to push.

“Your father? Why?” he asked.

Dorian shuddered and he wrapped his arm more tightly around the mage’s shoulders in response.

“He wanted…” Dorian snorted and shook his head. “I don’t know what he wanted really. Forgiveness maybe? Certainly for me to come home.”

Cullen felt a stab of panic at the idea of Dorian returning home even though it obviously hadn’t happened. “Why would he want forgiveness?”

Dorian let out a shaky breath. “He tried to… change me.”

“Change you?” Cullen said with a frown. “How? And _why_?”

“I prefer men,” Dorian said with a bite in his voice. “As in, having sex with them. My father disapproves.” He snorted. “Tevinter society disapproves. Anything between two men is considered shameful. To be hidden and never spoken of. My father wanted to me to marry, to live a loveless, lifeless charade and spend the rest of my life screaming on the inside. I declined that honour and when he realised I was also not inclined to hide my preferences, he…” He licked lips that had gone suddenly dry. “He was going to use a blood magic ritual on me to make me more _acceptable_. Of course, it could have reduced me to a drooling vegetable but he seemed to feel that risk was worth it.”

Cullen drew in a sharp breath and pulled Dorian protectively closer. “He wanted your forgiveness for _that_?” he said in a voice that was both appalled and angry. “How could he do that? To his own son?”

Dorian did not seem at all put out by the protective gesture. If anything, he curled into it. “It is precisely _because_ I’m his son that he wanted to do it. He wanted the perfect son who would hopefully one day be Archon. I’m a disappointment to him.”

“If he thinks that, then he’s an idiot,” Cullen said angrily. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

He froze as he realised what he just said and blushed and when Dorian shifted so that he could look him in the face, he turned away slightly. Dorian wouldn’t allow him to do that and placed his fingers under his chin so that he could turn his head back.

“Well, of course I am,” Dorian said in a pale imitation of his usual manner. “I just didn’t think you thought so.”

Cullen kept his eyes averted and licked his lips. “I… yes.”

Dorian stared at him for a long moment then said quietly, “Cullen, look at me.”

It took all his willpower for Cullen to raise his eyes to meet Dorian’s but whatever the mage saw in them made his eyes widen with surprise and hope and then delight and desire bloomed in them. It was the latter that Cullen reacted to without thinking. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Dorian’s in a gentle, chaste kiss. Dorian tensed at first then he made a small helpless sound and just _melted_ against him, his mouth opening eagerly to deepen the kiss. Despite that, it remained gentle, more of a question and an answer and a promise of more to come than anything desperate, and when they parted, Dorian rested his forehead against Cullen’s and gave a soft, happy sigh.

“That was…” Cullen began.

“Perfect,” Dorian replied, letting his fingers run across the stubble on Cullen’s jaw like he’d always wanted to.

He chuckled at the blush that coloured Cullen’s cheek and gave him a peck on the end of his nose. “You are truly adorable.”

Cullen’s blush deepened but there was disbelief in his eyes. “You say after… after everything I told you?”

“You _were_ that man,” Dorian said with a smile that was sad and melancholy. “I wish you hadn’t been for many reasons but one thing I do know is that you’re not that man anymore.” He caressed Cullen’s cheek. “Would that man be sitting here right now, holding me, kissing me?”

Cullen shook his head. “I wouldn’t have cared back then.”

“But you do now.”

“Yes,” Cullen said with a quiet intensity that made Dorian’s heart soar. 

“Then… I’m saddened by what happened to you, I’m horrified by what you did, I’m _furious_ at the Order and the Chantry for not _helping_ you and just… tossing you away to be preyed on by Meredith.” He pressed a kiss to Cullen’s lips. “And I’m incredibly impressed that you clawed your way out of that abyss on your own and made yourself into the man I see before me today. A man who can not only be comfortable with a mage but also… care for one?”

He ended on a question and held himself still as he waited for the answer. 

“I do care about you. Very much so,” Cullen said, aware he was shaking a little as he cradled Dorian’s face in his hands. He hadn’t expected that answer from Dorian but it filled in the cracks and crevices that had been left in his heart over the last few days.

Dorian smiled. “Then in answer to what you said when you left my room, yes, I forgive you.”

Cullen let out a shuddering breath and wrapped his arms around the mage, pulling him into his lap, something with which Dorian eagerly complied. He kissed the mage again and this time, while still gentle, the kiss was full of relief and desire and want and when they finally parted, they were both breathing heavily.

“If I’d known you could kiss like that, I’d have climbed into your lap a lot sooner,” Dorian said in something close to his normal manner. He couldn’t stop touching and caressing Cullen’s face and neck and shoulders. “And where did such a good Chantry boy learn to kiss like that anyway?”

Dorian was half-hard just from the kissing and, from where he was sitting, he could feel Cullen was as well. He didn’t feel the need to act on it though, which wasn’t his usual way of doing things. But he knew this was different. _Cullen_ was different. They’d get there, he knew that and was comfortable with it, but not now. It was too much right now. They’d both revealed too much to just throw themselves into sex right now. Maybe he would have done that at one time but this wasn’t the shallow, superficial relationships of his past. This had weight and while it terrified him in many ways, he also _liked_ that weight. It didn’t feel suffocating or strangling, it felt… right.

Cullen gave a helpless laugh and he knew he was blushing yet again. “I’m not a complete innocent, you know. And I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Pity,” Dorian said with a laugh and a ridiculous waggle of his eyebrows. Then he sobered and the masks all dropped again, leaving his weariness on display. “Would you… stay? I didn’t sleep much on the way back and I’d like to now but I… don’t want to be alone.”

Cullen smiled and kissed him, firmly setting aside any thoughts of the amount of work piled on his desk. The Inquisition could just damn well do without him right now. Besides, he suspected Trevelyan would make sure they weren’t disturbed, given the man had sent him here. “Of course.” 

They shifted around on the bed until they were lying down and Dorian burrowed his way as close as he could get, ignoring Cullen’s chuckle because the man eagerly wrapped him up in his arms. As he drifted into sleep, his last thought was that he could get very used to this.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter took way too long to write. This is also where this fic starts to earn its M rating.
> 
> Cullen and Dorian wake up and talk. Then there's some sex.

When Dorian woke, he felt momentarily disoriented. He was aware from the scent and light and the general feel that he was in his room at Skyhold but it took a moment to remember why there was someone in the bed with him. When that memory did come back to him, he smiled and snuggled closer to Cullen. The former Templar muttered something in his sleep and the arm that was slung around Dorian’s shoulders pulled him closer.

Dorian rested his head on Cullen’s chest and listened to his heart thumping in a slow steady beat that indicated Cullen was not only asleep but resting peacefully. The sound was soothing and Dorian let himself drift contentedly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d simply lain with a man – not had sex, simply lain in a bed with them and done nothing more than hold each other – in fact, he couldn’t remember if he’d _ever_ done this. He didn’t think so and it surprised him how comfortable he was with it. He could quite happily lie in Cullen’s arms for the rest of his life.

He chuckled softly at such a syrupy sentiment. He’d never been much for such things either. Or rather, he _had_ but he’d had them thrown back into his face too many times to ever say such things aloud now. Though, he was reconsidering that right now. Maybe it would be different with Cullen. Maybe if he said those syrupy things to Cullen, he wouldn’t be sneered at and told he was a fool. 

He was drawn out of his thoughts when the tenor of Cullen’s breathing changed and his heart started pounding. He raised his head and saw that Cullen’s eyes were darting back and forth under his eyelids and his face was caught in a grimace. All of a sudden he gasped and his arms tightened around Dorian as he shifted and curled around him in what could only be called a protective manner.

“You will not touch him.”

Dorian bit back a startled curse when Cullen all but snarled those words. He’d always thought those caught in the thrall of dreams or nightmares muttered or spoke half sentences but that had been said as clear as if Cullen was awake. He quickly checked but Cullen’s eyes were still closed and from their movement, he was still dreaming, no doubt caught in some nightmare of the Fade.

He shifted in Cullen’s embrace, taking care not to move away from the man and trigger him any further in whatever was happening in his dreams. He moved just enough to free a hand so that he could run it through Cullen’s hair and caress his face.

“Cullen,” he said softly, soothingly. “Amatus, it’s alright. Come back to me. You’re only dreaming.”

Cullen shifted and this time he muttered some unintelligible but defiant words. His breathing picked up into almost a panicked rate and Dorian could feel Cullen’s heart hammering in his chest, so close was he being held. He kept caressing and murmuring soothing words, not knowing what else to do. He didn’t feel in any danger. Cullen was curled around him so protectively that combined with his early words, he could only imagine that something was threatening him in Cullen’s nightmares.

Then Cullen suddenly shifted awkwardly, clearly having just started awake. Dorian smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Are you awake, Amatus?”

Cullen opened his eyes and Dorian saw they were full of apprehension and shame.

“Was I…” Cullen swallowed.

“Having a nightmare?” Dorian replied calmly. “Yes, it appears you were.”

That look on Cullen’s face intensified and Dorian wondered why it was _shame_ of all things that he felt. Why would he be ashamed of having nightmares? After all he’d been through, it seemed entirely natural. Certainly he still had nightmares about what his father had been intending to do to him.

“I didn’t… hurt you, did I?” Cullen asked, sounding distressed.

Dorian caressed his face, his question at least partly answered. “Whatever demons were pursuing you in your mind, they were not taking on my form, Amatus. If I were to guess, they had instead turned to threatening me.” His smile was rather impish. “Look at us, my dear Cullen.”

Cullen frowned then seemed to take in how they were lying, with Dorian pulled tight against him and his body curled around him to ward off any harm. Even he couldn’t miss how protective the gesture was.

“Oh,” he said, blushing a little.

Dorian chuckled and gave him a brief kiss, noting that blush as he might, Cullen hadn’t moved from his protective position. “Yes. Oh.” He sobered. “Have you… hurt someone before?”

Cullen grimaced. “Back when I first got to Kirkwall, I was sharing quarters with Samson…”

Dorian nodded when he paused. “I remember you telling me that when we were stuck in the frozen arse end of nowhere in the mountains after Haven.”

He got the barest of smiles out of Cullen for that before he continued rather sheepishly, “I decked Samson a couple of times when he tried to wake me from nightmares. He, uh, eventually started throwing things at my head rather than risk that anymore.”

“He kept waking you up though?”

Cullen nodded. “He stopped after the second time I punched him but it just made things worse. That’s when he started throwing things at my head.” He smiled a little. “He usually kept it to pillows or these little cheap stuffed toys he started buying from a stall in Lowtown. Once or twice he tossed a boot at me when he’d had a little too much to drink.”

Dorian cocked his head curiously. “He sounds like a decent man.”

“He was,” Cullen said with a sigh. “A little rough around the edges but decent enough.” He grimaced. “A better man than I was at the time.”

“Enough of that,” Dorian scolded. “You cannot change what happened in the past, you can only continue on the path you’ve taken.”

Cullen smiled sadly and pressed his forehead against Dorian’s. “I know.”

Dorian snuck another quick kiss. “So how does Samson go from being a man decent enough to wake his roommate from nightmares to betraying his entire Order to Corypheus?”

“I don’t know,” Cullen said with a sigh. “He was treated badly, I’ll grant you that, but to deliberately infect the Templars with red lyrium? I can’t understand why he would do that.” He shook his head a little. “I know he drifted into some bad things when he was desperate for money for lyrium but… this is beyond the pale.”  
 

“You never tried to help him?” Dorian asked.

Cullen looked shame-faced. “No. I was too busy toeing Meredith’s line and desperately hanging on to my sanity. I did protest the actions taken against Samson and Maddox at the time. Briefly, at any rate. The punishment was far too extreme for such minor infractions but I let Meredith convince me that it was necessary to set an example.” He gave Dorian a curious look. “Do they have the Rite of Tranquillity in Tevinter?”

Dorian snorted. “Of course they do. You don’t think they’d overlook such a delightful weapon just because the country is run by mages, do you? It is considered a great triumph to manoeuvre matters against your enemy in such a way that you can accuse them of something worthy of the Rite.”

“I would have thought…” Cullen trailed off, looking surprised.

“That we’d be above such things? That we’d be more protective of each other?” Dorian asked then he snorted derisively. “I don’t know why people in the south think Tevinter is some sort of mage utopia.”

“Probably because we don’t know much about the place,” Cullen replied.

Dorian realised that Cullen was finally calming down from whatever his nightmares had been, distracted by the conversation. His embrace had relaxed certainly and his posture had become less protective and more simply comfortable. Not that he’d minded being protected in that way. It was an odd sensation and he’d thought it might be suffocating but instead he’d felt… warm. Safe. Something he’d rarely felt over the years.

“You’d probably be appalled if I told you the truth,” Dorian said, though there was a hint of wistfulness in his voice that he could tell that Cullen had picked up on. He missed his home in many ways. He hated and was frustrated by it in others but mostly he just felt homesick generally. Less so at the moment though. Between his father and Cullen, he felt more like his home was here instead.

“Probably,” Cullen said with a smile. “Too many years as a Templar.”

Dorian shifted in Cullen’s embrace, stretching a little. In doing so he _undulated_ against Cullen’s body and he more felt than heard the other man’s hitched breath. In that moment, the entire atmosphere between them changed. Cullen’s arms tightened around him involuntarily then the man stilled. Dorian looked at Cullen and saw the man had closed his eyes and was biting his bottom lip.

“Cullen?”

Cullen opened his eyes and Dorian drew in a breath at what he saw in them. The want and desire were familiar. He was used to seeing that in men’s eyes when they looked at him. The affection and something that he thought… _hoped_ … was love? That was new. And terrifying. And _wonderful_. His hand went to Cullen’s cheek almost automatically and he brushed his fingers along the stubble that grew there.

“ _Cullen_?” he said, his tone both an invitation and a question.

“I… sorry.” 

Cullen licked his lips and when he shifted slightly, Dorian could feel his erection through their respective layers of clothes. Dorian wasn’t hard, not yet, but feeling Cullen’s reaction to him was correcting that situation very quickly.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, rolling his hips against Cullen’s.

Cullen made a small moaning sound that Dorian honestly wanted to hear again. Then Cullen’s hand was clutching at his hip, though whether he was trying to stop him or urge him onwards was somewhat up in the air.

“You… earlier… Maker, _Dorian_ …”

Dorian chuckled and rolled them so that Cullen was flat on his back on the bed. He straddled the man’s hips and smiled down at him. “Yes, I am not… exactly back to myself as yet but Cullen, if there is one thing I know about you, it’s that you would never… _use_ me. Whatever we do now, you will not get up afterward and walk out that door without a backward glance.”

He had to stop then at the look on Cullen’s face. It was one of horror and growing anger.

“Who…” Cullen began with outrage.

Dorian leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss. “You adorable man,” he said fondly. “They’re all in Tevinter and I honestly don’t remember half their names.” He smiled sadly. “I’m afraid I haven’t been particularly chaste. I hope that doesn’t…”

This time it was Cullen who silenced him with a kiss. “I don’t _care_ , Dorian. I don’t care about the men except that they hurt you.”

Dorian affected an airy tone. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Dorian.”

Dorian caressed Cullen’s cheek. “It’s in the past, Amatus. They’re not here and you most definitely are.”

“What does that mean?” Cullen smiled curiously. “A… Amatus?”

Dorian actually blushed and was struck speechless for a moment. He hadn’t actually been consciously aware that he’d been calling Cullen that. He couldn’t help the feeling of panic that suddenly swept over him at the thought of actually revealing what that word meant.

Cullen seemed to realise that as he smiled and pulled Dorian down into another kiss. “Never mind,” he murmured against Dorian’s lips. “You can tell me later.”

Dorian rewarded that by leaning into the kiss and rolling his hips against Cullen’s. He grinned at the groan that his action ripped out of the man beneath him. He did it again and chuckled when Cullen clutched at his hips and ground up against him.

“Oh, Amatus, how could I not want you? Want anything you will give to me.” 

Dorian pulled off his shirt and ran his hands under Cullen’s, shoving it up until the man helped him take it off. He ran his hands down Cullen’s now bare chest, his fingers running over old scars. Cullen caught his hands and brought one up to kiss the palm. Dorian closed his eyes and smiled at the action. He couldn’t remember the last time a lover had been so gentle, so caring. Most had just been… perfunctory, willing to give and take pleasure but little more.

He pulled his hands free and ran them down Cullen’s chest again. “Beautiful, beautiful man,” he breathed then smiled at the blush he got for that. It spread from Cullen’s cheeks, down his neck and spread over the top of his chest. He leaned down and kissed Cullen again then trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck. He wanted to stare in awe when in response, Cullen arched his head back, offering more even as his hands moved back to Dorian’s hips, encouraging him to move again.

Dorian did so, just not in the direction Cullen wanted and he chuckled at the whine he got for that. He kissed his way down Cullen’s chest, detouring briefly along his collarbones and sucking and biting at his nipples until he had the man gasping and swearing underneath him, his hips bucking up, desperately seeking any kind of contact.

“ _Dorian_!” Cullen whined. “Please.”

Dorian chuckled and kissed Cullen’s stomach just above the waistband of his breeches. “Patience, Amatus.” He deftly unlaced Cullen’s breeches and pulled them off along with Cullen’s smalls. He sat back on his heels at that point and looked at the man on his bed. Cullen was all pale skin and muscles with scars dotted here and there. His chest was covered in fine blond hair that darkened a little past his hips and where it surrounded his weeping erection.

“Beautiful,” he said again then before Cullen could respond he dropped down and sucked Cullen’s cock into his mouth.

Cullen cried out and arched off the bed, one hand clutching at Dorian’s shoulder while the other gripped the blankets tightly. Dorian pressed his arm over Cullen’s hip to keep him still and gave up any thought of teasing and drawing this out. Instead he concentrated on driving Cullen over the edge. Cullen certainly didn’t seem disappointed by that decision to judge by the noises he was making until…

“Dorian!” 

Dorian hummed around Cullen’s cock, knowing what the man was trying to warn him about but he didn’t pull off and when Cullen cursed and came, Dorian swallowed down everything he had to offer. He pulled off only when Cullen grabbed at his shoulder and he let his lover pull him up. 

“Let me…” Cullen gasped, fumbling at the laces of Dorian’s breeches.

Dorian stripped them and his smalls off as quickly as he could and when Cullen wrapped his hand around his cock, he moaned and buried his face in the man’s neck. He curled around Cullen’s side as the warrior wrapped his large warm calloused hand around him and started to stroke.

“That’s it,” Cullen muttered as Dorian started to thrust into his hand. “Yes, just like that, Dorian. So gorgeous. Come on.”

Dorian whined and fucked into Cullen’s fist, chasing his own completion as Cullen urged him on. He gasped when Cullen pulled him closer and captured his mouth. Dorian cursed into the messy open-mouthed kiss then he opened his eyes. Cullen was watching him, his brown-gold eyes wide, the pupils blown wide and that was enough. Dorian bit out a curse as he fell over the edge, his come striping Cullen’s stomach and spilling over his hand. He slumped against his lover and buried his face in Cullen’s neck again as he tried to catch his breath.

He felt Cullen press a kiss against his temple then the man moved, shifting away from him and getting off the bed. Something froze inside Dorian’s chest and he drew in a sharp breath. Had he been wrong? Was Cullen leaving? Before he could wind himself up any further, the bed shifted under him and Cullen lay down again, pulling him close.

“Just wanted to clean up while I still had some motivation,” Cullen murmured. “Not leaving.”

Dorian let out the breath he’d been holding and gave a faint laugh. “You had me worried there for a moment,” he said, trying to make it into a joke.

It didn’t work and Cullen slid his fingers under Dorian’s chin and raised his head so that he could look him in the eye. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Dorian.” He smiled wryly. “Or if I leave, I’ll tell you why. I can’t always control when I’ll be called to the war table.”

Dorian returned the smile tentatively and dared to believe what Cullen was saying. “Trevelyan is very inconvenient.”

“That he is.”

Dorian closed his eyes and snuggled closer. “We should get him together with Cassandra. That’ll keep him busy.”

Cullen laughed softly and ran a hand through Dorian’s hair. “Maybe we should.”

“Not now,” Dorian murmured. “Sleep. More sex. Then sort them out.”

Cullen laughed again and Dorian let sleep claim him, confident for once in his life that he wouldn’t wake up alone.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Dorian's private idyll continues, courtesy of the Inquisitor, who just wants them both to be happy. It can't last but for now they intend to enjoy it.
> 
>  
> 
> Maker but this chapter took forever! It also prompted me to up the rating to Explicit. Ooops! Where did that smut come from? :D

A knock on the door woke Cullen and for a moment, he curled protectively around the man sleeping in his arms before he oriented himself. When the knock came again, he grimaced and carefully eased himself out of the bed. He smiled when Dorian made a grumbling sound and sprawled into the warmth of where he’d been then he picked up his breeches and shirt and pulled them on. 

When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was a tray full of covered plates and bowls. The second thing he saw was the person holding the tray. Trevelyan was grinning but there was an anxious look in his eyes that belied the expression.

“We finished dinner about half an hour ago,” Trevelyan said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “When I realised you and Dorian weren’t there, I thought…”

“Thank you,” Cullen said as he took the tray. 

Trevelyan licked his lips. “Is he… is he okay?”

Cullen put the tray on the table and returned to the door. He noticed that Trevelyan hadn’t immediately come in and when he flicked a glance over at the bed, he was very thankful for that. Dorian had shifted in his sleep again and the blankets had slipped down to his thighs, leaving him almost entirely on display. Trevelyan was a friend to both of them but there were some things Cullen preferred to keep to himself. The utter perfection of Dorian’s backside was one of those things.

“He will be,” he said quietly to Trevelyan. “I gather it didn’t go very well with his father.”

Trevelyan grimaced. “His father actually seemed fairly reasonable. Right up until that whole he wanted to perform a blood magic ritual on Dorian thing.”

“Yeah, that thing,” Cullen said, his face darkening.

“I had Leliana send some people out to make sure he goes home and doesn’t try and spring any surprises on us,” Trevelyan said. “I don’t think he will but better to be safe than sorry.”

“Good.” Cullen nodded. “Thank you.”

Trevelyan turned to go then looked back. “And you and Dorian? You’re good?”

Cullen smiled and blushed a little, his hand rising automatically to the back of his neck. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Trevelyan grinned. “That’s… that’s great. I’m glad.” He backed off a bit. “I’ll… let you get back.”

Cullen chuckled as Trevelyan waved a little self-consciously then turned away. “Inquisitor… Maxwell.” Trevelyan turned and looked at him curiously. Cullen licked his lips. “About Cassandra… You’re going to have to make the first move. She won’t. Just make it romantic.”

Trevelyan smiled. “I will. Thank you.”

Cullen gave him a nod then closed the door. He leaned against it and looked over at Dorian, his gaze drifting down the mage’s back to his arse and then back up.

“It’s glorious, isn’t it?” Dorian said without moving an inch, startling Cullen as he hadn’t realised the mage was awake.

“What is?”

“My backside. I know you’re looking at it. It’s the product of several generations of careful breeding so I hope you appreciate it.”

Cullen decided to ignore the ‘careful breeding’ part and quickly stripped off his shirt and breeches. He climbed back onto the bed and carefully lowered himself over Dorian. He nuzzled into the back of his neck and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the skin there.

“I do appreciate it,” he said, tracing a line of kisses along Dorian’s shoulder. From here he could see that the mage still had his eyes closed but he was smiling. He was also utterly relaxed, a state Cullen hadn’t often seen him in.

Dorian hummed with lazy satisfaction. “Was that Trevelyan I heard?”

“Mmhmm,” Cullen said, kissing his way back along Dorian’s shoulder and starting down his spine. “We missed dinner so he brought food.”

“Ugh, I’ve gotten myself all confused on time,” Dorian said, though it didn’t really sound like much of a complaint. “I’m going to be awake for hours tonight.”

Cullen continued to work his way down Dorian’s spine, smiling when his lover arched into his touch rather indolently. “I’m sure I can find a way to tire you out.”

Dorian laughed, a rich, lazy sound that Cullen decided he liked a lot. “I’m sure you can.” He made a contented sound. “Mmm, naughty Commander. You’ve been playing truant. Whatever shall your soldiers do?”

“They’ll live,” Cullen replied absently, more interested in the warm skin beneath him.

“Who _are_ you and what have you done with the Inquisition’s workaholic Commander?” Dorian said with warm amusement. He hummed as the slow burn of arousal rolled through him with every touch of Cullen’s lips to his back.

Cullen chuckled. “I have been suitably distracted.” 

His eyes flicked up along the length of Dorian’s back, taking in the way he was sprawled on the bed, then he smiled and set his teeth to one cheek of that very perfect arse. Not hard enough to bruise but enough to feel it. He was rewarded by a mewling sound of startled arousal from Dorian and the way the man arched towards him for a moment.

“I sincerely hope you intend to follow through on that,” Dorian said, sounding suddenly breathless.

Cullen chuckled and rubbed the stubble on his cheek against the skin he’d just bitten. Dorian arched into his touch again and made another of those mewling sounds as he brought his hips down and ground them against the mattress. 

“ _Cullen_.” Dorian sounded astounded and a little lost, as though he wasn’t quite sure how to react to what was happening.

Cullen smiled and moved over to the other side of Dorian’s arse where he set his teeth to the skin there as well. Again Dorian arched into the bite then back down into the mattress as he gasped. Cullen chuckled then slowly kissed his way up Dorian’s spine until he could lower his weight onto the other man and mouth at the back of his neck. He was hard by now and he slid his erection along the crease of Dorian’s arse.

“Amatus… please,” Dorian moaned as pushed up against Cullen’s cock, wanting more of it. He was about to make that very suggestion when his stomach growled loudly and quite insistently.

Cullen froze and then chuckled, resting his forehead against the back of Dorian’s head. “I think perhaps I should feed you first,” he said warmly.

Dorian whined and shook his head as best as he could. “No. Want you. Want you _in_ me. Eat later.”

Cullen’s breath caught in his throat and his hips stuttered forward at that idea. He wanted to object and take care of Dorian but he had the man stretched out underneath him, warm, relaxed and willing, so very willing. As much as he didn’t want to rush this relationship, he _wanted_ Dorian so very badly. Then Dorian made the decision entirely moot by spreading his legs and arching up against him.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen moaned. He kissed the back of Dorian’s neck. “Oil?”

“Bedside table,” Dorian said, smug now that he’d gotten his way.

Cullen nipped at the skin on Dorian’s shoulder, getting a yelp and a laugh for his troubles, as he reached over towards the table. He took the opportunity of the movement to press Dorian further into the bed and roll his hips against his arse. 

Dorian moaned and reached back towards Cullen’s leg, though he didn’t seem to know whether to encourage him or hold him still. “Tease,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.

“Oh, I intend to deliver,” Cullen said intently as he found the vial of oil. 

He pushed himself up onto his knees and ran his hand down Dorian’s back and over his arse. For a moment, he just looked at the other man and let his arousal and desire thrum through him. Lyrium enhanced a Templar’s abilities but it dulled other things – dreams, memories… desires. It didn’t render Templars impotent but it took patience or heightened emotions in general to arouse. The early days of his withdrawal had brought with them an unexpected and frankly quite embarrassing level of sensitivity, an abrupt and ferocious return of those desires. It had only lasted a few weeks but those weeks had tested his control considerably.

He was unbelievably relieved that those days were past him. He wanted to enjoy this, to let his arousal and desire build and flow as they wished. He wanted to bring Dorian the same sort of pleasure. He wanted to take his time but he also wanted feel it, something that would have been impossible when he was part of the Order.

“For someone who is intending to deliver, you’re taking an awfully long time about it,” Dorian said, looking over his shoulder.

“Patience is a virtue,” Cullen replied, pulling the cork out of the vial and coating his fingers.

“We both know I have no virt-ahh!” 

Cullen chuckled at the way Dorian’s words had disappeared into that breathy gasp as he slid one finger over the mage’s hole. He kissed Dorian’s shoulder and pressed his finger inside to the first knuckle.

“You have many virtues,” he murmured.

Dorian whined and pressed back against Cullen’s hand. “Cullen! More.”

“Pushy,” Cullen said with a chuckle as he let Dorian’s movement slide his finger all the way in.

“If you knew… nrgh!” Dorian broke off and groaned when Cullen drew his finger back then pushed it in again. “If you knew how long I’ve wanted this…”

Cullen poured some more oil on his fingers then slid in a second one. “How long?” he asked, his voice low and intense before he kissed Dorian’s shoulder then sucked a mark into the smooth skin.

Dorian gasped and writhed as Cullen’s fingers kept moving in and out. He tried to hurry the pace but Cullen was having none of it.

“How long, Dorian?” Cullen said still in that low, hoarse voice and Dorian moaned at the sound of it.

“Months,” he gasped. “Since… since the second time we… we worked together. Amatus! More, _please_!”

Cullen’s breath caught at that admission and he rewarded Dorian with a third finger and a biting kiss on the back of his neck that left a mark and caused the mage to cry out with pleasure. So long and he hadn’t known. Hadn’t realised. Not that he was sure he would have acted on it even if he had known. He’d needed… time. Time to become more comfortable with his feelings and time for his withdrawal to recede a little further. 

Cullen slowly drew his fingers out and pushed them back in, watching with wonder as Dorian writhed and mewled, surrendering to the feelings he was creating within him. He was so hard and it was taking a large amount of his self-control not to simply take what was on offer. But this was the first time they were doing this and he wanted it to be good. Finally though, he could take no more. He withdrew his fingers and grabbed the vial of oil again. He poured some into his hand and ran his hand up and down his own cock. 

“Maker,” Dorian breathed and Cullen looked up to see Dorian peering at him over his shoulder. “Next time, I’m doing that.”

This time it was Cullen’s turn to whine at the mental image and he laughed breathlessly. “I would never last with your hands on me.”

Dorian’s smile was wicked. “Oh, you would. I’d make sure of it.”

Cullen bowed his head as the implications of that promise flooded through him. He could feel the pulse in his cock throbbing in his hand and he let go hastily, not wanting to inadvertently finish this too early.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said hoarsely.

“Good,” Dorian said. He turned his head back and laid it down on the pillow. “Now, if you don’t get on with it and fuck me, I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”

Cullen placed the vial of oil on the bedside table and then leaned over Dorian. He took his dick in his hand and lined himself up then slowly pushed into Dorian’s arse, pausing every time Dorian tensed up. When he was finally buried to the hilt, he let his forehead rest against Dorian’s neck and concentrated on his breathing and more importantly, not coming on the spot.

“Cullen, _move_ ,” Dorian demanded. With Cullen pressed against every inch of his back the way he was, he had no leverage.

Cullen huffed a laugh and pushed himself up on his elbows. “Pushy.”

He braced himself and drew back then thrust forward. Dorian’s reply turned into a yowl of pleasure and Cullen smiled as he repeated the motion. He got a similar response and realised that Dorian was going to be noisy. At another time, with someone else, he might have been embarrassed by that but he couldn’t, not here and now and not with Dorian. Never with Dorian, no matter where they might be. He _wanted_ to hear the noises Dorian made, that he drew out of his lover.

He drew the control the Templars had taught him around himself like a cloak, laughing softly at the disapproval he’d have received for using it in such a fashion, and set a steady rhythm, revelling in the gasps and whines and cries every movement drew from Dorian’s throat. Only when the mage had been reduced to a steady stream of half-articulate begging did he finally let himself go.

His sudden shift from the steady pace to hard, demanding thrusts left Dorian able to manage little more than gasping something that might have been Cullen’s name. For his part, Cullen mouthed at the back of Dorian’s neck as he chased his completion. It almost caught him by surprise and his hips stuttered as he emptied himself into lover with a long low groan.

He collapsed on Dorian as he caught his breath and soon became aware that Dorian was trying to get some sort of leverage to thrust against the mattress and whimpering because he couldn’t. Cullen carefully withdrew then flipped Dorian over. Before the mage could react, Cullen slid down the bed and took Dorian’s cock into his mouth. The mage gave a strangled cry and came, one hand clutching at Cullen’s hair in a tight grip. Cullen swallowed everything Dorian had and pulled off with a satisfied pop. He rested his chin on Dorian’s hip and grinned up at the other man, waiting for Dorian to catch his breath and open his eyes again.

Dorian gave a breathless laugh when he saw the look on Cullen’s face and he ran his hand through the man’s hair gently, a silent apology for pulling it just before. “Smug looks good on you, Amatus.”

Cullen laughed and moved back up the bed. He leaned in for a kiss, which Dorian returned enthusiastically. “I take it I lived up to expectations.”

Dorian caressed his cheek. “You surpassed them. Where _did_ you learn to do that?”

Cullen gave an amused chuff as he slumped down onto the bed and pulled Dorian into his arms. “Why does everyone think I’m some sort of virginal Chantry boy?”

“Because you look like a virginal Chantry boy,” Dorian replied with a laugh. “It’s the blond hair, I think.”

Cullen snorted. “Well, I won’t claim to be overly experienced but I do know what I’m doing.”

“I can certainly attest to that,” Dorian said brightly then his stomach growled loudly once again.

Cullen snickered and got up. “Alright, now I’m definitely feeding you.” 

He raised his arms over his head, stretching upwards until his back cracked, then looked over his shoulder to find Dorian watching him with open appreciation. He blushed, which drew a chuckle from his lover.

“After everything we’ve just done, _now_ you blush, Amatus?”

Cullen shook his head, knowing that he was blushing even more now, and headed for the tray he’d left on the table. He lifted the covers on the plates and saw with some relief that the Inquisitor had brought over a selection of things that would be just as good cold. Most of the food was still relatively warm but there were some dinner options he could think of that would have not been overly welcome right now.

He was startled momentarily when he felt Dorian come up behind him and wrap his arms around his waist. He leaned back into the other man as Dorian peered at the food over his shoulder.

“Just a moment,” Dorian said before he let go and walked over to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. He pulled out two robes and handed the wine red robe to Cullen.

Cullen held the robe up a little dubiously. It looked like silk and he’d never worn anything like it before but when he pulled it on and wrapped it around him, tying it tight at the waist, he began to understand why people spent money on such things. The material was soft and luxurious against his skin, slipping over it at every move in a way that was almost sensual enough to arouse him again and might well have if he’d been ten years younger. Despite all of that, he still couldn’t help thinking it was a frivolous luxury and it must have shown on his face because Dorian laughed.

“You look you can’t decide whether you like it or not.”

“I do like it,” Cullen said hurriedly. “I just… can’t imagine how much it cost.”

“I have no idea,” Dorian replied. “It was a gift from my mother several years ago. Maker knows why I threw it in when I packed. I’ve barely ever worn it. The colour looks terrible on me.” He paused and eyed Cullen appreciatively. “But I must say it looks gorgeous on you. You’ll have to keep it.”

Cullen’s eyes widened. “I... I couldn’t.”

“You absolutely could and you will,” Dorian said decisively as he pushed Cullen down into the nearest seat at the table and sat down himself. “As I said, I don’t wear it and it looks perfect on you.” He smiled a little shyly, an expression Cullen found inexplicably beautiful. “I’d like to see you wear it again.”

Cullen blushed at the admiring look in Dorian’s eyes and ducked his head as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I… well, alright. Thank you.”

A comfortable silence settled between them as they ate and Dorian was surprised to find himself feeling sleepy once again. After all the sleep he’d had during the afternoon, he’d expected to be awake for hours but Cullen had well and truly exhausted him in the best possible way. He’d been worried that Cullen would want to wait before they had sex, given all that had happened. He’d have done so without complaint… well, only small complaints kept to Trevelyan alone… but he’d wanted the man for so long that to be denied would have been a test of his patience and his ability not to push. But Cullen had been the one to initiate things tonight and his lips curled in a smug smile as he remembered the results. He then shifted on his chair a little so that he could feel them as well.

“Did I hear you make some suggestion to Trevelyan about Cassandra?” he asked, suddenly remembering something else from earlier.

Cullen chuckled. “I did. She likes romance and she’s never going to make the first move. She’s still not sure if he’s truly genuine in his feelings.”

Dorian scoffed. “Not genuine? With the way the man pines after her after all this time? How can she doubt his feelings?”

“Because I’m fairly sure she has about as much experience in these things as I do,” Cullen said wryly. “Possibly even less.”

“She’s not…” Dorian said with surprise.

Cullen stared at him blankly then he blushed and shook his head. “No! She’s not… that. But she’s… well, she rebelled against her family’s designs for her at a young age and being a Seeker is as much of a commitment as being a Templar. More really. So I don’t think she’s ever really had much time for romance.”

“Trevelyan has a list,” Dorian said then elaborated when Cullen gave him a confused look. “Apparently of things Cassandra wanted. Flowers, candles, poetry, that sort of thing. He intends to keep to that list to the letter.” He gave Cullen a wicked look. “We should help.”

Cullen’s eyes widened for a moment then he grinned. “I… wouldn't say no to that. Cassandra has… encouraged me more than once in regards to you and she’s been a good friend. I’d like to see her as happy as I am.”

And that - that artless, almost unthinking declaration - was all it took for Dorian to blush and stare at Cullen speechlessly. He made Cullen happy. He wasn’t sure he’d ever made someone happy. He’d amused people, annoyed them surely, infuriated them even, but made them _happy_? He couldn’t say he’d ever done that, at least not without trying to mould himself to their wishes and desires and being sure he was going to fail. He didn’t think he’d ever made someone happy just by being himself.

“Dorian?” Cullen said with a tiny frown.

Dorian waved a hand and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m fine. I…” He blushing again, he knew it, and he suddenly found he didn’t mind one bit. He made Cullen happy and, he realised, Cullen made _him_ happy. “I think that’s an excellent sentiment.” He grinned. “And since Trevelyan has listened to all my pining about you, I do feel rather obligated to help him.”

“Pining?” Cullen said softly.

“A great deal of rather pathetic pining,” Dorian admitted with a smile. “Even more so after… after the trip here. Do you have any idea how maddening it was to sleep all curled up with you like that and do _nothing_? It’s a wonder I made it here in one piece!”

Cullen laughed. “I confess I almost made a move more than once. I just… wasn’t sure whether it would be welcome, whether I was reading too much into your flirting.”

“You knew I was flirting with you?” Dorian said, looking amused and outraged.

“You flirt with everyone, Dorian,” Cullen said dryly. “I was just hoping you meant it with me.”

Dorian hesitated for a moment. “I did. I had no idea if you were interested or not but I will admit I was flirting with intent.”

Cullen levelled that half-smirk that Dorian adored so much at him. “I was interested. Very much so. I just…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just knew I’d have to tell you about my past and I wasn’t sure if what little we had at that point would survive it.”

“You never thought about hiding it?” Dorian asked, more curious than anything else.

Cullen grimaced. “I thought about it very briefly but there are mages here from Kirkwall and even some from Kinloch. It would never have stayed a secret and I wanted you to hear it from me, not anyone else. Cassandra… agreed.”

Dorian cocked his head slightly then he smiled. “Cassandra’s your rock, is she?”

Cullen nodded. “I asked for her help with the withdrawal and she’s become a friend from there. People tend to only see the steely Seeker, partly because that’s often all she lets them see, but she’s much more than that.”

“Trevelyan certainly sees that,” Dorian replied. He’d gotten to know the Seeker a little during the times when Trevelyan took them both out and certainly the Seeker had, on more than one occasion, seemed unusually interested in his friendship with Cullen. He’d thought it was because Cullen used to be a Templar and she worried about how they might react to each other but when he looked back on it now, he saw something else - a friend looking out for another friend.

“He does,” Cullen said with a smile. “It baffles Cassandra a bit but she likes it.”

Dorian pushed aside his plate, contemplated matters for a moment then got to his feet and walked over to stand beside Cullen. He held out one hand. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Cullen took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. They returned to the bed and let the robes fall to the floor before crawling under the blankets again. Dorian immediately wormed his way into Cullen’s embrace and sighed with contentment. Cullen laughed and pulled him close. It felt almost unreal being here, like they were in their own world, far away from all the troubles outside. Dorian knew that it wouldn’t last, that when tomorrow dawned, Cullen would return to his duties and he would have to pick up the threads of what he had been doing as well as head out with the Inquisitor when needed. They would have to _find_ time to be together rather than having it given to them like tonight but he was determined to do so and he was sure now that Cullen felt the same.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idyll is over and it's back to the real world but before they get down to work, Dorian wants to help the Inquisitor. 
> 
> Oh, and Cullen discovers the joys of silk smalls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good lord. Has it really been over a month since this fic was updated? *gasp* Nanowrimo! How you ruin my fic writing schedule. Anyway, hopefully this will get back on a more regular schedule. After all, there's only Christmas and New Year to come... *flops*

When they emerged from Dorian’s room the next morning, there was a sense of returning to a reality that felt a little odd and cold. They made their way into the tower and down to Dorian’s little niche in the library in silence then paused there, where they had to separate.

“Dorian…” Cullen paused then he leaned in and very quickly pressed a kiss to Dorian’s lips. “I’ll see you later.”

Dorian watched him go with wide eyes then touched his lips with his fingers. He looked around but it was still early enough that very few people were in the library and if anyone had seen that, they didn’t seem inclined to comment on it. Dorian started down the stairs for a moment longer then settled into his chair and picked up the book he’d been reading before all the mess with his father and its far more pleasant aftermath had begun.

It took a moment to settle back into his research as his mind kept wandering to Cullen and what they’d done and what might happen in the future but eventually he managed to scold himself enough to concentrate. It wasn’t until people started moving past him for the midday meal that he broke out of his study. He watched them for a moment then got up and followed, an idea growing in his mind.

A quick glance into the dining hall showed him that Cullen wasn’t there so he coaxed one of the kitchen staff into making him a tray and he carried it over to Cullen’s office. He arrived just as one of the scouts was leaving and the man held the door open for him and gave him a totally unexpected salute and nod. Dorian wasn’t sure what to make of that but since it was far better than the usual suspicious look or even outright hostile glare, he was prepared to let it slide.

Cullen was hard at work at his desk and was frowning over whatever he was reading. Dorian hadn’t been in the office too many times but he’d been there enough to know that something was different. Something about the quality of the light. He looked up and whistled.

“Now that’s impressive.”

Cullen looked up from his work with surprise that quickly became delight. He followed Dorian’s gaze up to the new window and chuckled.

“My roof took the brunt of the storm and came off second best.”

Dorian carried the tray over to the desk and Cullen quickly cleared a space for him to set it down.  
“Just as well the ladies wouldn’t let you stay here then.” He looked back up at the window. “Whose idea was that?”

“Cassandra,” Cullen replied. “But it’s Dagna’s work. Serault glass. Whatever she’s done with it means that it’ll stand up to far more than a storm. She explained but I only understood one word in four at best.”

Dorian looked over at Cullen curiously. “Why the window? Wouldn’t it have been easier to roof the entire room?”

Cullen hesitated and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced a little. “Probably but I… I don’t like being closed in.”

Dorian pulled a chair over and sat down at the side of Cullen’s desk. “You were fine in my room yesterday.”

“I know,” Cullen said with a small smile. “It’s not every small room that sets it off. I’m not really sure what it is that does. Your room just felt comfortable but I was fairly sure that if I’d had the roof fixed the way everyone wanted me to, I’d have been crawling out of my skin in here even though it’s actually a fair sized room.”

He chuckled and his smile became very rueful. “I spent nearly the entire sea voyage from Kirkwall to Fereldan on the deck. The cabin was… far too small. The crew didn’t seem to mind me being there.”

“How did you sleep?” Dorian said with a frown.

“I didn’t really,” Cullen replied. “I sort of dozed on my feet a bit.”

Dorian looked appalled. “Cullen!”

“It was that or terrify everyone on the ship by either having nightmares or going mad from the small room,” Cullen said dryly.

He leaned forward and lifted lids from plates on the tray and started picking at the food Dorian had brought. The mage wasn’t really inclined to be distracted too much but he could draw a few conclusions about where Cullen’s problem had come from and he also knew that there probably wasn’t anything he could do about it. Cullen was also making it obvious that he didn’t really want to talk about it anymore than he had and he was willing to respect that.

“This is fine though?” he asked, pointing to the window.

Cullen smiled. “It’s perfect and I’ll admit it’s a lot warmer.” He pointed to the tray. “Are you planning on eating?”

Dorian sighed and nodded. He ate some cheese and bread and then broached the subject that had brought him here beyond ensuring Cullen ate.

“I thought I might come here tonight,” he said with deceptive idleness. “I thought we could invite Trevelyan for dinner and then do some plotting in regards to Cassandra. Then I… thought I could stay?”

He looked over at Cullen a little hesitantly then he actually blushed when he saw the look of fond affection on the man’s face.

“I… I’d like that,” Cullen said, the pink tinge on his cheeks belying his apparent confidence. “All of it.” That little smirk that Dorian very much liked appeared on his face. “Though I’ll admit I like the last part the best.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “You know I only suggested that because your roof has been fixed.”

“Of course."

“I do not like the cold,” Dorian said archly.

“I would never have known that,” Cullen said. “Having not heard you complain about the cold a thousand times.”

“Tsk. Such sass.” A smirk played around Dorian’s lips as he took some fruit. “It’s very unbecoming in a Commander.”

He was utterly relieved to find that they could still be like this even after all that had happened the previous day. It was unknown territory for him. His liaisons in the past had been brief and transitory and afterwards both parties had done their best to pretend that nothing had ever happened. That had been the part he had always struggled with and now he didn’t have to. Not that he was comfortable with the idea of, say, kissing Cullen in the middle of the main hall but the kiss this morning had been… very nice and he rather liked the idea of sitting together in the tavern and perhaps having Cullen’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. Of course, that would require him getting Cullen to the tavern in the first place but he had a few ideas along those lines.

“I’m sure my reputation will survive.”

“Actually I think it might be enhanced if you sassed your colleagues a little more in your soldiers’ hearing.”

Cullen frowned. “That would be unprofessional.”

“Your professionalism would not be damaged by your people seeing you relax a little, Cullen.” Dorian looked at his lover fondly. “They’d probably find it reassuring.”

“Reassuring?” Cullen said with a frown.

“Yes.” Dorian raised his eyebrows. “It gives them tacit permission to relax a little themselves and relaxed troops are more likely to be good troops.”

Cullen thought about that for a moment. “I’ll… consider it.”

The conversation turned to more mundane matters as they finished lunch then Dorian stood and picked up the tray he’d brought in.

“As much as I’d like to see how far you’d let me go here in your office, I do have some preparations to make for this evening,” he said with a smirk.

Cullen blushed. “I, uh… try me again on that sometime.”

Dorian grinned wickedly. “Oh, I will, Cullen. Trust me, I will.”

He left with a spring in his step and returned to the main building. He spent part of his afternoon firstly making sure Trevelyan knew about the dinner invitation and would come and then organising things with the kitchen staff. As he hurried around, he had the distinct impression that the servants were being far friendlier than they had been before he’d gone to Redcliffe. It wasn’t anything that he could really put his finger on but everything just seemed to go far easier than he’d expected. He dismissed that thought when he returned to the library and his research, after asking one of the servants to see that he was reminded of his plans for the evening an hour before the evening meal.  
When the time came, he returned to Cullen’s office and found that the table and chairs he’d asked for had been set up in the Commander’s office and that Cullen was nowhere to be seen.

“Amatus?” he said with a small frown.

“I’m above,” came the reply from the room upstairs and a moment later, Cullen slid down the ladder.

He had taken the opportunity to shed his armour and he was wearing a fine linen shirt. Dorian highly approved and he walked over and ran his hands down the front of Cullen’s chest.

“One of these days, Amatus, I’m going to get you in silk,” he said with a smile before leaning in and kissing Cullen. “But this will do for now.”

“I do know how to dress myself,” Cullen said with a dry chuckle as he wrapped his arms around Dorian’s waist. “But silk seems a little excessive.”

“You only say that because you’ve never worn a silk shirt,” Dorian replied.

Cullen smiled. “Maybe but it’d be ruined under armour.”

“Silk is meant to be worn to be seen,” Dorian said with a snort. “Maybe I can convince Josephine to add silk shirts to whatever she and Madame Vivienne are planning for the masquerade.”

Cullen winced. “Don’t remind me. I’m not looking forward to that. Damn Orlesians and their Game.”

“You don’t know how to play, do you?” Dorian said with a smirk.

Cullen snorted. “I do actually. I just choose not to. They taught us the fundamentals of the Game when I was learning Orlesian.”

“What?” Dorian’s eyes widened. “You speak Orlesian?”

“Of course,” Cullen replied. “It’s offered as part of Templar training and those who have been earmarked for higher ranks are encouraged to learn.”

Dorian looked highly amused. “And do Leliana and Josephine know this little scrap of information?”

“Josephine hasn’t mentioned anything about it,” Cullen said with a shrug and a tiny smirk. “And I always assume Leliana knows everything.”

“But you haven’t directly told them?”

“No, of course not,” Cullen said. “If I did, they’d want to use it to their advantage and I seem to be incapable of saying no to them.”

“Incapable of saying no to whom?” Maxwell Trevelyan asked as he walked into the room. He smiled when he saw them wrapped up in each other’s embrace though they quickly separated.

“Josephine and Leliana,” Cullen said.

Maxwell groaned. “You too? They’re utterly terrifying. I’m afraid if I say no to them I’m going to find myself strung up over the tower by my toenails in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t think they’d go that far with you,” Cullen said, trying not to laugh.

Dorian made no such effort and he chuckled as he headed for the bottle of wine and the goblets on the desk. “I don’t know… they are terrifying, after all.”

“All I know is that the best thing for my health is to do what they say,” Maxwell joked.

“Wise man,” Cullen said dryly. “Have a seat, Inquisitor.”

“Ah!” Dorian said, holding up one hand. “No Inquisitors tonight, Amatus. Just Maxwell.”

Cullen chuckled as he remembered what the topic of conversation was going to be tonight. “That is a point.”

Maxwell looked at them with surprise and just a hint of wariness. “Okay… what’s going on?”

“Sit,” Dorian said, pointing at one chair. He then offered a goblet of wine. “Here. It’s Tevinter so it’ll be good.”

Maxwell sat down and took the goblet. “How did you get this?”

“I wheedled it out of our dear Ambassador,” Dorian replied. “She decided it was for a good cause.”

“And what cause is that?” Maxwell asked as Dorian and Cullen sat down as well.

“I’m feeling particularly at peace with the world,” Dorian said magnanimously. There was a smile playing around his lips that he was trying to hide. Cullen, on the other hand, wasn’t bothering to hide his smile and instead was watching Dorian’s antics with a fond look and a tinge of pink to his cheeks. “And I feel the sudden urge to spread that around.”

Maxwell arched an eyebrow. “Was that supposed to make sense?”

“Cass _andra_!” Dorian said, letting his grin show now. “We’re going to help you.”

Maxwell looked over at Cullen. “You’re… in on this?”

“She’s my friend and you’re starting to make her doubt,” Cullen said, his smile kind. “So yes, I’m in on this.”

Maxwell groaned and let himself fall forward so that he could knock his head against the table a couple of times. He straightened up. “Maker. I’m getting this wrong and I haven’t even started yet.” He waved his hands frantically. “I completely lose my ability to construct a coherent sentence around her.”

“You do not,” Dorian said, waving a finger at him. “You’re perfectly capable of talking to her. I’ve seen you do it a thousand times.”

“That’s… ordinary stuff,” Maxwell said. “This… this is the _important_ stuff. The words really _matter_.”

“They don’t have to be perfect,” Cullen said quietly. “Just as long as you mean them.”

“Case in point,” Dorian said, pointing to Cullen and giving his lover an affectionate look. “Cullen is not one to be flowery or verbose…”

Cullen smirked. “I leave that to you.”

Dorian fixed him with a glare and pointed a finger at him. “Hush and look pretty.” Cullen laughed quietly as the mage continued. “But I do not doubt anything he says to me.”

Cullen sobered a little and the look he gave Dorian was intense. He then smiled and Dorian returned that smile.

“But back to my point,” Dorian said. “Cassandra isn’t going to expect you to be florid. She wants sincerity.”

“He’s right,” Cullen said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. He looked faintly uncomfortable but he soldiered on nonetheless. Dorian did have a point, though he viewed it a little differently. Cassandra had been subtly – for her – pushing him towards Dorian for a while, first as a friend then as something more. He felt he owed it to her to return the favour even if meddling in other people’s lives wasn’t his usual thing. “Cassandra grew up in noble circles in Navarra and rejected all of that. She doesn’t need you or want you to act like an Orlesian noble. She wants the romance, yes, but she wants it to be sincere.”

“Oh,” Maxwell said. “So it doesn’t matter if it’s not perfect as long as I… put the effort in?”

“More or less,” Cullen replied. “Dorian said she gave you a list of things she wanted?”

Maxwell nodded. “Uh, yes. Poetry, flower, candles, that sort of thing.”

“She wants to be wooed,” Dorian said with a chuckle. “It’s rather charming when you think about it. The fierce Seeker is a closet romantic. Though, yes, I’d also say it’s a bit more than that as well. She wants you to put the effort in.”

“Prove that she’s worth it, you mean?” Maxwell asked with a frown. “Of course she is!”

“Then you need to do it right,” Dorian said. “So… poetry.”

Cullen held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.”

“Uhuh,” Dorian said. He arched an eyebrow at his lover then glanced pointedly over at the bookshelves. “Because there are absolutely no books of poetry over there at all, are there?”

Cullen blushed and Maxwell looked between the two of them and the bookshelves. “There are?”

“I, uh…”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and was heartily relieved when there was a knock on the door and some of the kitchen staff came in with their dinner. However Maxwell was not to be distracted and once the staff left, he leaned forward eagerly.

“I don’t suppose any of it might be useful?”

Cullen shifted in his seat and took a drink of wine. “I doubt it. Most of it isn’t romantic. There might be one or two relevant poems in some of the books but that’s not…”

“It’s interesting,” Dorian said as he started eating. “If you like your poetry introspective.”

“I didn’t know you liked poetry at all,” Maxwell said. He looked curious and, oddly enough, a little sad. “Then again, I suppose we never did know much about the Templars in the Circle other than names and reputations. We certainly didn’t know much about the training you receive other than the obvious.”

“They do educate us beyond simply teaching us fighting and how to use the Templar abilities,” Cullen said with a resigned sigh. "Everyone has to study the basics and there are a number of elective classes that those who want advancement are encouraged to sign up to.”

Maxwell looked troubled. “And yet… there are so many Templars who… go bad.”

“I’m not sure I have much of an answer for you on that one,” Cullen said, looking equally as troubled. “There are some like Meredith and… and myself who have had bad experiences and let that drive us to a place we shouldn’t be but some…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe the selection process should be better.”

“I suppose I’m not in any place to judge,” Maxwell said. “Look at the number of mages there were terrorising people in the Hinterlands, not to mention all the blood mages in Kirkwall and other places.”

“There’s bad and good on both sides,” Cullen replied then he gestured towards the bookshelves. “Anyway, I took a number of the electives on offer, one of which was literature studies.”

“But they don’t teach love poetry to impressionable young Templars, do they?” Dorian said with a smile.

Cullen chuckled. “No. They probably didn’t want to encourage anything untoward.” He smirked a little. “A lot of the trainees were inventive enough as it was.”

“Not you, Amatus?” Dorian’s eyes were twinkling.

Cullen blushed and ducked his head a little. “Not really. I mean, I didn’t… there was… Maker’s breath.”

Both Dorian and Maxwell laughed and Cullen smiled ruefully at them in return. 

“Still, I wouldn’t mind seeing what you have,” Maxwell said when he got himself back under control.

“By all means,” Cullen said. “I’ve read everything that’s in there so you’re welcome to take what you want. The books I want to read are all upstairs.”

Maxwell looked up and smiled when he saw the roof. “Oh, Cassandra told me about what she did with your roof. That’s a very good idea, isn’t it? It must have been awfully cold in here before.”

Cullen nodded. “It is and yes, it was but I never minded that much.”

“I would have,” Dorian said with a shudder.

“Just as well it’s fixed then,” Maxwell said. His grin was both cheeky and very happy. “I, um… I’m glad everything is… is okay with you two, by the way. I got a little worried there.”

Dorian’s expression became rather melancholy. “There were things that needed to be said and were said. Not entirely pleasant but, yes, we’re good.”

“More than good,” Cullen said quietly, his blush growing.

“Now, back to Cassandra,” Dorian said abruptly. “Poetry. There’s not really much in the library, I can tell you that much but what about that Dwarven book seller in Redcliffe? He might have something. Otherwise, you’d have to go to Val Royeaux.”

“I think I’ll have to go to Val Royeaux for the candles and flowers though, wouldn’t I?”

“Not the flowers,” Dorian said with a shake of his head. “They wouldn’t survive the trip but the candles, yes. The Orlesians produce quite a lot of luxury scented and sculpted candles. The best of the candlemakers would probably custom sculpt candles for you if you knew what you wanted.”

“I’ll think about that,” Maxwell said. “I’m honestly not sure what I’d have sculpted. Maybe I’ll stick with what they have. What about the flowers?” 

“What about the head gardener of the public gardens in Val Royeaux?” Cullen suggested. “I presume they have such a thing.”

“That’s an idea,” Maxwell said, looking far more enthusiastic. “If I’m going to Val Royeaux anyway, I might as well ask.” 

“And I think I know the perfect place for this,” Dorian said. 

Maxwell smiled at them with something akin to wonder on his face. “Thank you so much. I was tying myself in knots about how to do this.”

Dorian frowned. “It’s hardly difficult.”

“You only say that because Cullen swept you off your feet,” Maxwell said dryly.

Dorian opened his mouth to protest then closed it again as he considered what had happened. “Hmph. I suppose he did.”

“There really wasn’t much sweeping involved,” Cullen said. “It was more of a case of me trying to ruin things before they even started.”

“Honesty is hardly ruining things,” Dorian said, pointing a finger at him. “It might well have been resolved a little sooner if Bull hadn’t gotten me incredibly drunk on maaras-lok.”

“I don’t think I helped that much either,” Maxwell said, looking guilty. “I just didn’t feel I could put that off any longer than I already had.”

Dorian grimaced. “It had to be done. It would have been far worse if we’d forced him to come here.”

Cullen’s face had darkened at the mention of Dorian’s father. “Or it might have gone much better. I wouldn’t mind introducing Magister Pavus to the abilities of a Templar.”

The smile that graced Dorian’s face at that statement was both gleeful and slightly malicious. “Perhaps we should invite him here then? I would very much like to see that.”

Maxwell looked like he agreed with Dorian while also like he felt he shouldn’t. “So you still retain some of your abilities?” he asked Cullen.

“Last time we had a chance to do anything,” Cullen said with an uncomfortable nod. “Though that was back in Haven. It’s been too hectic to get anything done here and when I have had time, Dorian has mostly been out with you.”

“That’s a good point,” Maxwell said. He frowned and tapped his bottom lip with one finger. “I must admit, I had thought about taking Solas with me to the Exalted Plains and the Emerald Graves.” He looked over at Dorian. “You wouldn’t mind being left behind?”

Dorian’s eyes flickered over to Cullen for a moment. “I could think of ways to pass the time,” he said with a passable imitation of innocence.

Maxwell laughed while Cullen did his best not to blush… something he failed at completely. Dorian gave a wicked laugh and the conversation turned to more innocent subjects for the rest of the evening. It was late when the Inquisitor finally left and the servants had cleared the dishes and the table and chairs. Once they were gone, Cullen closed and locked the doors behind them then turned to look at Dorian.

Before he could do anything, he found himself shoved against the door and Dorian was kissing him. It was a light kiss, gentle, delicate with a promise of more to come and as he kissed him, Dorian tugged Cullen’s shirt out of his breeches and slid his hands up the other man’s stomach.

“This would be better if we moved it upstairs,” Cullen murmured against Dorian’s lips even as he clutched at the mage’s hips and pulled him closer.

Dorian made a distracted noise. “Or we could stay here.”

“There’s a bed upstairs.”

Dorian suddenly pulled away and headed for the stairs, shooting a grin over his shoulder. “I’m convinced.”

Cullen drew in a deep breath then chuckled as he pushed himself off the door. He followed Dorian up the ladder and found the mage already half naked. He licked his lips and simply watched as Dorian pulled off his boots and shimmied out of his leather pants. He closed the gap between them a slid a hand over the seat of Dorian’s smalls.

“Are these… silk?” he said, sounding dubious.

Dorian smirked at him and leaned against him. “They are.” He wriggled against Cullen’s hand. “The finest Orlesian silk.”

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen muttered but he couldn’t help but run his hand over them again. 

The material was soft and slick and Dorian shivered in a delightful way at every pass of his hand. He then slid his hand around Dorian’s hip and cupped his hardening erection through the soft material. Dorian simply _melted_ against him, forcing Cullen to wrap his free arm around his lover’s waist to keep him upright, and moaned as he pressed against his hand.

“ _Kaffas_ , Cullen, that feels so good.”

Cullen could feel the heat in his face though this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with arousal. He started manoeuvring them towards the bed, his hand curling around Dorian’s erection through the silk.

“Time for bed,” he said in a low voice.

Dorian whined in response, his eyes fluttering closed, then he grabbed hold of Cullen’s shirt and tipped them over into the bed. He straddled Cullen’s hips and ground down hard.

“Only if we’re not sleeping.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever had writer's block? I have. It's terrible and it's why it's taken me so long to write this chapter. But finally, here it is.
> 
> Cullen finds out what's going on with his Templar abilities, he and Dorian talk and Stroud and Hawke arrive at Skyhold.

Cullen stood in the middle of the small clearing that he and Dorian had found about a half hour’s ride from Skyhold. It was the first time he’d tried the Purge since they’d arrived at Skyhold and it was… different. He frowned down at the ground and tried to work out how he was feeling right now.

“That was weaker,” Dorian said from the other side of the clearing. “Definitely weaker.”

“Yes,” Cullen said, still frowning at the ground.

He didn’t see Dorian approach and gave a start when the mage placed a hand on his arm.

“Amatus? What’s wrong?”

“I… it is weaker. There’s definitely not as much there inside for me to pull on.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Cullen said hurriedly. “I don’t think so. I’m… not sure what I…”

“These abilities were a part of you for a very long time,” Dorian said with a studied calmness. “It’s natural to mourn their passing.”

Cullen’s frown deepened. “That’s just it. I don’t miss them. I…” He hesitated and whatever it was swirling around in his chest suddenly coalesced. “I don’t want them anymore.”

“Why not?” Dorian’s voice was calm and quiet, almost prompting rather than enquiring.

“They’re… part of something I don’t want to be anymore. I want to leave them behind, like the armour and the title.” He straightened and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to forget what happened, what I did, but I want to shed the last part of that man. These abilities? They’re part of him, not me.”

He opened his eyes when he felt Dorian’s hand against his cheek and he leaned into the mage’s touch, letting out a quiet sigh. It was the first time he’d ever articulated those feelings and he felt lighter for it.

“We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Dorian said.

Cullen considered that then he shook his head. “No. I promised Cassandra I’d do this and she’s right. We need to know if it’s possible to use them without lyrium. If answer ends up being no, then so be it. That’s the answer. But we won’t know for sure unless I go through with this.”

“If you’re sure?”

Cullen smiled at Dorian’s obvious concern and leaned in to kiss him. “I’m sure.”

Dorian’s eyes darted to each side before he accepted the kiss. Cullen had seen him do that before, just as he’d felt his lover stiffen and tense when he did something as simple as place a hand on his arm. So when the kiss ended, he cradled Dorian’s face with one hand.

“Dorian,” he said softly, even gently, as though not to startle a timid animal. “Why do you do that?” At Dorian’s confused look, he continued. “Check before kissing me? Or flinch when I touch you in public?”

For a moment, Dorian’s face went utterly blank then he just… drooped. There was no other word for it. He drooped and looked miserable.

“I… I told you about how these things are seen in Tevinter. It must be kept secret. No one can see.”

Cullen nodded in understanding. He didn’t feel hurt that Dorian was doing the same thing here. The man had spent his entire life in Tevinter and the behaviour from there was still very much ingrained. It wasn’t the sort of thing you could change overnight either. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t or shouldn’t change.

“You know it’s different here, don’t you?”

Dorian hesitated then nodded. “One area where you Southern barbarians have it over us,” he said with sad whimsy. “But… you’re the Commander of the Inquisition’s armies. You have status and power here. You shouldn’t be…”

Cullen placed a finger over Dorian’s lips. Whatever the rest of that deprecating sentence was, he didn’t want to hear it.

“I’m a farmboy from Fereldan,” Cullen said dryly. “And a former Templar who was in the wrong place at the right time to be plucked out of obscurity by Cassandra. Whatever status and power I have comes from the Inquisition and I would gladly, _willingly_ give it up once this is all over.” He brushed his thumb along Dorian’s cheek. “And who I love is no business of anyone else but I would…” Now he blushed. “I would like to be able to… to show people I love you. With the small gestures, if nothing else. If they think less of me because of that then… that’s their problem, not mine and not the Inquisition’s.”

Dorian could quite simply not think of a thing to say to those declarations. He’d despair at Cullen’s lack of ambition but it was so true to the man that he could only accept it. Cullen was not the sort of man who sought power and command. He had them thrust upon him and he accepted as gracefully as he could manage, always looking forward to the day when he could hand both back. And the last bit… well, he could only smile weakly before part of what Cullen had said hit home.

“You… love me?” he said hesitantly, wanting to believe it but everything in his past was screaming at him that it was just pretty words meant to seduce and nothing more.

Cullen’s eyes widened and he went still and distant for a moment, as though he was reviewing every conversation they’d had recently. Then he breathed out a quiet curse and drew Dorian into a gentle kiss.

“Yes, I love you,” he said. “I should have told you before. Maker knows I’ve known how I felt, ever since… since I told you about my past. That’s why I did that. I couldn’t love you and not have you know.”

Dorian’s smile was tremulous and tender but so very beautiful and Cullen could only lean in and kiss the man again. When they parted, Dorian caressed his cheek and his smile turned rather whimsical.

“Do you know what Amatus means?”

Cullen shook his head. “No. But you’ve called me that several times now.”

“Beloved,” Dorian said. “It means beloved.”

Cullen’s smile was as brilliant as the sun then he chuckled. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

Dorian smiled a little. “Can you… be patient with me, Cullen? Let me learn that it’s alright if other people know about us here.”

“Of course I can.” Cullen pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Just let me know if I’m overstepping, if you need me to stop. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with this… with _us_.”

“ _Kaffas_. You impossible man.” Dorian was startled to feel the pinprick of unshed tears in his eyes and he quickly turned away and stalked over to his position. When was the last time a man had cared about what he wanted or needed or felt? He couldn’t remember. “Shall we?”

Cullen looked at him with fond amusement and raised his sword and shield. “Very well.”

They continued for another hour then made their way back to Skyhold, deep in discussion about the practice and what the lessening of his abilities might mean for Cullen and other Templars. The moment they walked through the gate, a scout came running up with word for Cullen that Hawke and Stroud had arrived and his presence was required in the War Room.

“Well, there go our plans for dinner,” Cullen said dryly.

“Time and no man wait for the Inquisitor,” Dorian replied then he drew in a breath and leaned in and kissed Cullen. It was a quick kiss, more of a peck on the lips than anything else, but it was the thought that very definitely counted in this case. When Dorian drew back, he was almost vibrating with nervous energy. “I will see you tonight, Amatus?”

He didn’t wait for a reply and strode off towards the stronghold. Cullen watched him go with a smile and an indulgent chuckle then he turned to the scout, who was still waiting for him. The scout had been grinning but quickly wiped that expression off his face the moment he realised that Cullen was looking at him.

“Please tell the Inquisitor that I’ll be there shortly. I need to clean up.”

The man saluted and darted off. Cullen gave a sigh. No doubt the gossip would be round Skyhold in less time than he really wanted to think about. He hoped Dorian wouldn’t mind, though he couldn’t believe that his lover hadn’t known that the scout was still standing there when he’d kissed him. He’d have to remember to tell Dorian that he didn’t need to prove anything to anyone, least of all the Inquisition’s troops.

He quickly washed away the sweat of his session with Dorian and made his way to the War Room. Everyone was already there and Maxwell gave him a distracted nod as he took up his position on the other side of the table.

“Stroud?” Maxwell said, staring down at the marker for Adamant Fortress.

“It is as we expected,” Stroud said heavily. “The Wardens have pulled back to the fortress and are fortifying their position. Nothing short of an all-out attack will pry them loose.”

“We expected that,” Cullen said calmly. “It’s not the disaster you might think. Adamant has stood steady for centuries but that means that it’s not built to withstand modern siege engines.”

“And we have excellent relations with a number of Orlesian nobles who are more than willing to lend us their equipment and the people to man them,” Josephine added with a satisfied gesture of her pen.

Stroud frowned but nodded. “I regret the necessity for doing this but there is little choice.”

“With any luck at least some of them will stand down,” Cullen replied. “They can’t all be so blindly caught up in this, false Calling or not. Maybe it’s just the mages?”

“It’s always the mages’ fault, isn’t it?” Hawke said with a hint of rancour.

Maxwell glared at the Champion, causing Hawke to look a bit startled. He looked even more startled when he saw the cold look he was getting from Leliana and the disapproval that was radiating from Josephine. Cullen almost stepped in to try and mitigate whatever was about to happen but then decided to wait and see. Hawke certainly had cause for his rancour, Cullen would the first to admit that, but all things being told, Hawke should also have been smart enough to realise that things change.

“Well, I don’t know about you, Hawke, but I certainly didn’t see the Warden warriors summoning demons and being possessed or magically controlled or whatever was happening to them,” Maxwell said sharply. “Maybe some of the mages are starting to question the plan but mages…” He snorted. “We tend to trust our own, don’t we? And we also tend to dismiss and sneer at questions about magic from warriors because what would they know, right? Especially when Wardens run by a victory at any cost kind of thinking.”

Hawke was looking at the usually quiet and mild Inquisitor with a bit of surprise and Maxwell decided to take pity on him.

“Have you heard of the concept of personal growth, Hawke? Maybe you should speak to Dorian about this,” he said blandly as he patted the man on the arm then, with that cryptic comment leaving Hawke looking more than a little baffled, he turned back to the map and his next question was directed at Josephine. “How long will it take to get the agreement of those nobles?”

“I have a tentative agreement with most of them already,” the Ambassador replied, following the Inquisitor’s lead with ease. “Give me two weeks to finalise those agreements and they will be ready.”

“It’ll take some time to get them out to the Western Approach,” Cullen said, anticipating the Inquisitor’s next question. “Let me talk to Rylen about how many troops he can accommodate at the keep there. We can start to move our people almost immediately, though we’ll want to reserve some to travel with the siege engines.”

Josephine nodded approvingly. “The nobles will appreciate that.”

Maxwell stared at the map for a moment then nodded. “Do it. Let’s get this over and done with.” He looked up at the advisors and they all saw the weariness in his eyes. “Is there any other business?”

“Nothing that cannot wait,” Josephine said smoothly. “We have many preparations to make for Adamant.”

Maxwell sighed with relief and they saw the sternness of the Inquisitor slough away, leaving the Maxwell they all knew. “Good. Dismissed, everyone.”

Cullen lingered by the war table and gave a small nod to Leliana and Josephine as they left. He wasn’t surprised when Hawke spoke to Stroud for a moment then stayed behind as well. Maxwell was the last to leave and he shot Cullen a worried look. Cullen gave the man a small smile and a nod and Maxwell closed the door behind him.

“Well, didn’t I get put in my place,” Hawke said after a moment of silence. “I notice you didn’t join in.”

Cullen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You knew me at my worst, Hawke. After what happened in Kinloch, I was in a very dark place in Kirkwall. Something Meredith did her best to encourage.” He lowered his hand to the pommel of his sword. “I’ve changed but you weren’t there to see it so I don’t feel offended by an opinion that was fair when you last knew me.”

Hawke stared down at the table and chewed on that for a while then he looked up at Cullen again. “Who’s Dorian?”

Cullen was unable to stop himself from blushing. “Uh, he’s… one of the mages in Trevelyan’s Inner Circle. He’s an Altus from Tevinter.”

Hawke gave Cullen a long curious look. “I’m going to pretend that I know what Altus means… wait!” His eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. “You’re… lovers?” Cullen’s blush deepened and Hawke started to chortle. “Well now, isn’t that a turn up for the books. I guess you really have changed.” He sobered abruptly. “Does he know?”

Cullen nodded. “I… I told him everything. He deserved to know the truth from me before anything happened.”

“Huh,” Hawke said with a measure of respect. “That can’t have been easy.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Cullen said, his voice a little thick with remembered emotion. “But he was willing to… to believe in me.”

Hawke’s expression softened. “Well, if a Tevinter mage is willing to believe in you, I guess it’d be a bit petty of me not to do the same.” He looked rather wry for a moment. “I do try not to be petty. So, this Tevinter mage… what kind of person is he?”

“What do you mean?”

“Weeeelllll,” Hawke said slowly. “The last Tevinter mage I met was a real bastard of a blood mage who was trying to reclaim Fenris so he could treat him like a combination magical battery and subservient pet. We kind of killed him.”

Cullen looked startled. “Oh, that fracas in the Hanged Man?”

“Probably,” Hawke said ruefully. 

Cullen snorted. “Meredith was furious. We heard rumours of a pitched battle involving magic and demons in the Hanged Man but she couldn’t get any straight answers out of anyone.”

“Well, the Magister and his demons were all dead so why bother?” Hawke said with a shrug.

“Of course,” Cullen said dryly. “Dorian isn’t like that. He was raised to despise blood magic. He wants to change Tevinter. Make it better.”

“All by himself?” Hawke shook his head. “I wish him luck.”

“He does have a few like-minded friends back there but, yes, it does seem like a tall order.”

“And now he’s fighting against the darkspawn Magister with the Inquisition.” Hawke thumped his fist on the table and scowled. “I _knew_ I should have investigated more after we killed Corypheus instead of just handing things off to the Wardens.”

“From what I understand from the Inquisitor’s report, not even the Wardens knew much about him. And he was dead. Why would you have thought he could somehow resurrect himself?”

Hawke gave him an unreadable look. “Please don’t throw logic and common sense at me, Cullen. It doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“It should,” Cullen replied bluntly. “You killed him. You did everything you could at the time with the knowledge you had. Was there any information in anything you discovered in his prison that suggested he could come back to life?”

“No,” Hawke said a little sullenly.

“Then how were you supposed to know?”

Hawke slumped against the table. “I couldn’t but that doesn’t help.” He gave Cullen a rueful smile. “I still feel guilty. And don’t bother rolling your eyes at me. Fenris and Aveline have already gotten in before you. It didn’t work when it was from them either.”

Cullen was silent for a moment before he finally said, “We will succeed.”

“How do you know that?” Hawke said with open scepticism. 

“I don’t but Maxwell Trevelyan has already survived two confrontations with Corypheus and I have faith in him.” It was his turn to smile ruefully. “Even if I don’t always have faith in myself.”

Hawke eyed him curiously. “You seem pretty well respected here. I thought the ladies were going to rip my head off for a moment there.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve done terrible things, Hawke. You know that better than anyone else here.”

“I thought you said you’d changed.”

“I have.” Cullen sighed. “It… weighs on me often. Combined with… well, I, uh… I no longer take lyrium and the effects of that do not help.”

Hawke cocked his head curiously for a moment then his eyes narrowed. “Wait… aren’t Templars addicted to that stuff? That guy Samson certainly seemed to be.” Cullen nodded and Hawke stepped forward with a look of concern. “Are you alright? Is there anything I can do? I could try and contact Anders and see if he knows of anything that might help. Though, you know, all things considered, I’d understand if you want to keep him out of it.”

Cullen simply stared at the other man for a moment, a bit taken aback by the sudden concern before he realised that somewhere during the conversation he’d obviously been taken off Hawke’s ‘possible enemy’ list and somehow that meant he was now the subject of the man’s overwhelming need to solve other people’s problems. It was a little startling and he began to understand, just a little, why Hawke’s friends were so loyal to him. Having that concern directed at him for no other reason than because Hawke wanted to was… humbling and gratifying, especially considering their mutual past.

“Uh, as far as I know there isn’t anything I can do but endure,” he finally said.

Hawke scowled. “Rubbish. There has to be something. I refuse to believe you just have to suffer. That’s inhumane.” He hesitated. “Can I contact Anders? I know he’s probably not your favourite person in the world. Hell, even I have my days when I could just strangle him. But he knows a lot about healing and he might at least know something that could make things a bit easier.”

Hawke was right. Anders wasn’t exactly on Cullen’s list of favourite people. While he didn’t disagree these days that conditions in the Gallows had been horrific, the devastation and chaos unleashed by Anders’ actions was appalling and most people didn’t realise the full extent of it. In truth, the fighting and the unleashing of demons and abominations by terrified mages was really the least of the problems it had caused. The destruction and damage caused by the actual explosion and the resulting enormous chunks of masonry falling on shops and houses throughout the city had caused long term effects. After the battle, Cullen had sent most of the surviving Templars out into the city to dig out the dead and injured civilians and offer them what aid they could, even if it was only a final blessing. People were now without homes, jobs and loved ones and Kirkwall would be many years recovering. On that, he knew he and Varric were in complete agreement.

“Dorian has been making a potion for me that helps a bit,” he said slowly. “But I suppose there’s no harm in asking.”

Hawke arched and eyebrow and looked amused. “Has he now? Is that how it all started?”

“Not precisely,” Cullen said, giving the other man a withering look. “He… was interested in the Templar abilities and Cassandra tasked me with the duty of seeing whether I can still use them after all the lyrium works its way out of my system. Dorian has been helping me with that.”

Hawke looked thoughtful. “Huh. That’s an interesting question, I’ll give you that. How’s it going?”

“My abilities are weakening,” Cullen replied. “But we still have to wait and see how far it goes. If they’re still usable on a lesser level that can perhaps be boosted with lyrium only when needed instead of taking it all the time, we might be able to break the Chantry’s leash on the Templars.”

Hawke looked a bit startled again. “Leash?”

Cullen snorted. “How do you think the Chantry keeps its Templars under control? They control the lyrium supplies so they have their nice little pet army.”

“I never got the impression you were anti-Chantry.”

“I’m not.” Cullen sighed. “Well, I am and I’m not. I still consider myself Andrastian and I do believe in the Maker but I’m… not exactly convinced that the Chantry has been doing the best it could.” He paused for a moment. “I did believe in Divine Justinia. I met her only briefly after Cassandra recruited me and before the explosion at the Conclave and I was very impressed.” He gave a wry laugh. “Ten minutes in her company and she’d weaselled everything out of me about Kinloch and Kirkwall.”

“How did she react?” Hawke asked with rather sceptical interest.

“She was frustrated more than anything else,” Cullen replied. “I got the impression that she’d realised at some point after she ascended the Sunburst Throne that she wasn’t being told everything she needed to know, only what people wanted her to know. I think her reaction to that was to recruit Leliana as her Left Hand and find things out for herself but by the time she was able to turn her attention to Kirkwall, it was already too late to stop the impending avalanche.”

“Was she actually planning an Exalted March?” Hawke asked. “That’s kind of why Fenris and I left. We wanted to draw the Divine’s attention away from Kirkwall.”

Cullen shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. I think maybe it was on her mind as a possibility but by the time Cassandra recruited me, the Divine already had the plans for the Inquisition well in place and I think the Inquisition was going to occur no matter what the result of the Conclave was.”

“Cleaning house?” Hawke suggested, looking intrigued.

Cullen nodded. “Yes, I think so. You know you were Cassandra’s first choice for Inquisitor?”

“What?” Hawke yelped. “Me? Why?”

“Yes, you,” Cullen said with a chuckle. “She’s a fan.”

Hawke just gaped at him and Cullen laughed. 

“She’s a fan?” Hawke said dubiously.

“I’m not sure if she was at first but I’m pretty sure Varric converted her.”

Hawke shook his head ruefully. “Just when I think the world can’t get any stranger.”

“I used to think that,” Cullen replied, equally as ruefully. “Then I joined the Inquisition.”

Hawke laughed and the two of them headed for the door.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adamant. Cullen and Cassandra have to watch the men they love fall into the Fade. Lucky them. Not. But it all turns out well in the end. Sort of. Also Dorian and Hawke finally meet.

The siege on Adamant was going well. It looked chaotic to the untrained eye but Cullen’s eye was far from untrained. The trebuchets on loan from the Orlesian nobles were already starting to take their toll on the walls, much to the open and obvious dismay of the Wardens, and that was allowing the ladders to go up without too much interference. The battering ram was moving into place and his people appeared to be largely remembering their orders to keep their shields up. All in all, the casualties were fewer than he’d anticipated at this stage of the siege.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t yet been able to get a foothold on the battlements, mostly due to the presence of the demons. His people fought like lions against the Warden warriors but the demons were definitely a problem. Even the Warden warriors were proving to be not as much of an issue as he’d expected. It seemed that many of them had been having doubts about the Warden-Commander’s plans and when given an opportunity to surrender, they were taking it. After hearing about that, Cullen had given orders that the Warden warriors were to be given every opportunity to surrender and withdraw but if any of them wanted to fight with the Inquisition, that help would be gratefully accepted.

He saw the battering ram move into position at the gates and started rallying the soldiers he’d been holding back, moving them into position to take advantage of the battering ram’s work and taking up a position in the vanguard himself. The gates crumbled easily under the onslaught of the battering ram and after the initial clearing of the way, Cullen joined the Inquisitor and sent him on his way with his party. He had little time to do more than exchange a look with Dorian before had to return to his position.

Despite that, when they finally managed to gain a hold on the battlements, Cullen chose to lead the main force into Adamant and command the battle from there. The fighting was fierce. It was easy enough to convince the Warden warriors to at least put their weapons down and have them escorted out of the fortress but the mages fought with a mindless relentlessness that was unnerving and their ability to raise demons seemed endless.

“Look! Up there!”

Cullen sliced the head off the demon he had been battling and looked up at the upper regions of the fortress in time to see Corypheus’ massive dragon fall from the keep towards the gaping chasm that loomed behind Adamant. For a moment, the soldiers cheered but then they saw the floor and walls up there start to crumble and then… the Inquisitor and those with him fell. Cullen saw the Inquisitor throw out his hand and the mark on it flared. A rift opened and as Cullen let out an anguished shout, Maxwell Trevelyan and the others fell through it into the Fade.

Cullen staggered as he saw his lover follow the Inquisitor into the rift and despair threatened to overwhelm him for a moment. But then he remembered where he was and who he was. He drew himself up and started barking orders to the soldiers around him, shaking them out of their shock. He launched himself at the nearest demons and started savagely cutting them down, determined to end this. His soldiers watched him then followed his lead and they began to turn the tables firmly in their favour.

Cullen didn’t know how long he’d been fighting when the rift in the courtyard started to swirl. He knew Bull and his Chargers were somewhere nearby from the Qunari’s cheerful bellows and that Solas, Sera and Vivienne were somewhere behind him, providing barriers and magical support. Cassandra had joined him shortly after Trevelyan had fallen and she fought in a cold, fierce silence that made him pity those who faced her blade.

“The rift! Fall back,” came Solas’ shout and they moved back from the roiling green rift.

Then it suddenly flared and opened and Varric came stumbling through followed closely by Blackwall and Dorian. There was a moment of stunned silence then Cullen surged forward. 

“ _Dorian_!”

The Tevinter mage looked up from where he’d been leaning heavily on his staff. He looked weary and more than a little unnerved but there was only relief on his face when he saw Cullen.

“Amatus,” he whispered, letting himself stagger against the strong body of his lover.

Cullen caught Dorian and wrapped an arm around him. “Are you alright? Where is Trevelyan?”

Dorian nodded. “He’s behind us… I think.”

The mage forced himself away from Cullen and readied his staff but before he could do anything, the rift flared again and Hawke leapt through followed by a stony-faced Maxwell Trevelyan. The moment he was through, the Inquisitor whirled around and raised his hand, closing the rift for good. As soon as he did that, every demon in the place wailed and roared and disappeared and the Warden mages suddenly staggered and looked like they had woken from some sort of dream.

When Trevelyan turned around again, Cullen was taken aback by the bleak and miserable expression on the man’s face and that was when he realised the absence of the Warden he’d seen fall into the rift with the Inquisitor.

“Inquisitor?” One of the Warden warriors who had turned and fought alongside the Inquisition forces stepped forward. “Where is Stroud?” 

Cullen listened with half an ear to the Inquisitor’s reply but most of his attention had to be on his own tasks. Still, he garnered enough to know that whatever had happened in the Fade had resulted in Stroud being left behind, which explained the look on Trevelyan’s face. Cullen was shortly afterwards pulled away by Rylen and by the time he returned to the courtyard, the Inquisitor and those who had fallen into the Fade with him were gone. 

It was several hours before Cullen was able to return to the encampment and even then he expected to face a few more hours of work before he could get some sleep. However, when he walked into his tent, he found Dorian sitting on his camp bed, looking wan and pale. They had not been sharing a tent on this trip. When Cullen had raised the idea, Dorian had become skittish and he had decided to let it drop without bringing up the fact that they’d shared a tent during the trip to Skyhold and this would really be no different. Not that he’d spent every night alone on the march to Adamant. Dorian certainly hadn’t been averse to sneaking in from time to time.

“Dorian?” he said quietly. He hesitated for a moment then removed his weapons and armour as quickly as tired and aching fingers could manage. Once he was down to his breeches and shirt, he sat down next to Dorian and wrapped his arm around the man’s shoulders. “Alright there, love?”

Dorian twitched a little then leaned against Cullen as though someone had cut the thread holding him upright. “No, I don’t believe I am.”

“Are you hurt or is it…?”

“I was in the Fade.”

Cullen pulled Dorian closer. “I know. I saw you fall into the rift.”

He could hear how bleak his voice sounded as he said that and from the way Dorian pulled back a little and looked at him soberly, it was plainly obvious to his lover as well. He gently ran his fingers along Cullen’s jaw.

“You thought we were dead, didn’t you, Amatus?”

Cullen sighed and rested his forehead against Dorian’s temple. “I… I feared it, yes. I know the Inquisitor walked out of the Fade once already but he has the anchor on his hand. I wasn’t sure whatever magic it holds that allowed his survival would transfer to the rest of you.”

He was startled when Dorian rather unashamedly climbed into his lap and curled up against him but given that he needed to the reassurance as much as Dorian clearly did, he did not feel inclined to protest.

“I’ll admit for a few moments there, I feared the same,” Dorian murmured. “For all my curiosity about the Fade, I never wanted to actually walk within it in the flesh. The last time mages of Tevinter did that, it ended badly.” He paused for a moment. “And is continuing badly, for that matter.”

“What happened?” Cullen asked after a few minutes of silence. “I know Stroud died but Trevelyan was in no condition to be making any further reports and I told him as much. I advised him to write down what he could and we’d deal with the formal reports once we get back to Skyhold.”

“Is he alright?” Dorian asked worriedly.

Cullen sighed. “Not really. But he will be. I left him in Cassandra’s capable hands. We’ve both dealt with the kind of battle shock he’s showing and he’ll welcome her help far more than mine.”

Dorian managed a tired snicker. “Maybe it’ll goad them into some action.”

“Maybe it will,” Cullen said with an equally weary smile. Now that he’d finally stopped moving, he could feel his exhaustion catching up with him. Whatever work still lay on his makeshift desk would have to wait. He gave Dorian a nudge. “Boots off.”

Dorian shifted off Cullen’s lap and fumbled his boots off. He then stripped of the rest of his clothes until he was in nothing but his smalls. Cullen just watched for a moment then followed suit and they curled up in each other’s arms in Cullen’s bed.

“We’re alive,” Dorian murmured in a wondering tone.

“Yes, we are.”

“You looked magnificent leading the army on the battlefield.”

Cullen snorted. “I was just doing my job.”

“And doing it magnificently.”

“Dorian,” Cullen said with a tired chuckle. “Go to sleep.”

Dorian muttered and snuggled a little closer then he finally went still. It took a bit longer for Cullen’s mind to stop turning the events of the day over and over but finally he too was able to slide into sleep.

It was much later when Dorian woke with a start and gasp that might have ended up in a scream if he’d allowed it. He swallowed hard then settled back into Cullen’s loose embrace, trying to shove the dream of the Fade out of his mind. Behind him, Cullen muttered in his sleep and nuzzled closer and Dorian managed a faint smile at the affectionate action. He closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep but it turned out to be a futile effort. His mind had no interest in going back to the Fade and in truth, he didn’t really want to fight it.

He sighed and eased his way out of Cullen’s bed. He was relieved when he didn’t wake his lover. Cullen didn’t get enough sleep as it was, which was only partly his fault really. The long battle the previous day had exhausted him enough that he was sleeping without dreaming as far as Dorian could tell and he needed that rest.

Dorian pulled on his breeches and boots then picked Cullen’s shirt and pulled it on. It was a little loose and big on him and normally he’d object to wearing something that baggy. Though they were almost the same height, Cullen was broader through the chest and shoulders than he was from all his years as a Templar. Tonight though, Dorian wanted the comfort of it, the feeling of being embraced by Cullen and surrounded by his scent.

He slipped out of the tent and nearly walked into a passing guard patrol. One of the soldiers caught and steadied him. “Sorry, my Lord,” the soldier said with a smile and a nod. He then looked concerned. “Are you alright, my Lord?”

Dorian was a little startled by both the friendly reaction and the concern. It wasn’t that Cullen’s soldiers had ever been overtly rude to him but they’d certainly watched him warily enough. It occurred to him then that he’d seen less and less of the suspicion and rather more of the friendly type of reaction. He could only assume it was because of his relationship with Cullen and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“Ah, yes. I’m fine,” he said, waving off the soldier as amiably as he could manage. “I find myself unable to sleep.”

“You’re not the only one,” the soldier said with a sigh. “We passed Hawke a while back. Man looks like hell.”

The soldier gave him a sketched salute and continued on with his patrol. Dorian watched them go then he turned in the direction the soldier had indicated for Hawke. Cullen had told him about the incident in the War Room but Hawke had never approached him.

He found the man standing a little away from the edge of the camp, staring over at the smoking remains of the siege of Adamant, and he came up to stand beside him. Hawke didn’t seem to notice him but then he spoke.

“It’s kind of sad to see it like that. It stood against the Blight.”

“The Blight is nowhere near as stubborn as Cullen,” Dorian said with wry humour.

Hawke chuckled. “You’re right there” He eyed Dorian curiously. “And yet, Cullen’s flexible enough to take up with a mage from Tevinter.”

“He’s certainly flexible,” Dorian said with a leer and then he preened when Hawke stared at him for a moment then collapsed into laughter.

“I’m not sure I really needed to know that about Cullen but it’s worth it to think of the blush I’ll get when I throw it at him,” Hawke giggled.

Dorian smirked, feeling some of the remnants of the Fade dream start to drift away. Hawke was too _here_ and of this world to allow such things to linger in his presence. 

“He does blush rather beautifully.”

Hawke laughed again then he sobered and again looked at Dorian curiously. “You know, I never thought I’d see him even _friendly_ with a mage, let alone romantically involved with one from Tevinter. I guess he really has changed.”

“You doubted it?” Dorian asked, one eyebrow arched.

“I haven’t seen him since the battle against Meredith,” Hawke admitted. 

“In which he fought alongside you.”

Hawke sighed. “Yeah, he did. And he told me that he told you everything about his past.”

“He did.” Dorian licked his lips and swallowed against the memory of that time and the hurt it had caused both of them. “He wanted me to hear it from him.”

“You… forgave him?”

“Yes,” Dorian replied. “I wish he’d never had to go through what he did in the Fereldan Circle and that he’d never become the man he was in Kirkwall and done the things he has. But, Hawke…” he gave a bitter laugh. “If we’re making lists of the terrible things we’ve done, I am far from innocent. Oh, I’m no blood mage but I am a pampered highborn son of Tevinter and for many years I enjoyed that status. I have never claimed to be a good man and it would be hypocritical of me in the extreme to hold other people to standards I cannot meet myself.” He sighed. “Besides, Cullen _has_ changed. He has had the strength and the courage to climb out of the terrible abyss he had fallen into and make himself a better man. This he had done all by himself before I ever met him. I admire him for that and I… I love him for who he is now.”

“And now I feel like an even bigger heel,” Hawke said wryly.

“You did say you hadn’t seen him since the battle against Meredith in Kirkwall.”

Hawke sighed. “True but I should have guessed that something must have changed with him if he was working for a mage. The Cullen I knew back in Kirkwall wouldn’t have done that.” He eyed Dorian curiously again. “You know, you’re not what I was expecting of a mage from Tevinter.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow again. “Alright, I’ll bite. What were you expecting?”

Hawke scowled. “Someone a little more like Danarius.”

“Danarius?” Dorian said softly. He stared into the distance as he rolled the name around his head. “I feel like I should know that name.”

“He was a prick of a Magister who we killed a while back.”

Dorian snorted with amusement. “A prick of a Magister describes about eighty per cent of the Magisterium. You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

Hawke’s expression darkened. “He branded lyrium into Fenris’ skin. Is that specific enough?”

Dorian’s eyes widened and he stared at Hawke long enough to make the other man look worried.

“You know him?” Hawke demanded.

“No, no, definitely not,” Dorian said hurriedly. “ _Kaffas_ , that was… _years_ ago. I was… I don’t know, fifteen or sixteen, I think.” He snorted. “Home in disgrace yet again. Father came back from a meeting, ranting and raving about a Magister who was mistreating his slave and how he was going to bring the matter before the Magisterium. I remember him mentioning something about lyrium and tattoos.”

“Would they care?” Hawke said with considerable rancour. “He was just a slave after all.”

Dorian sighed. “I’d like to think they would. I admit I never really saw the problems with slavery until I joined the Inquisition. _Most_ families look after their slaves and treat them well.” He made a sour noise. “Until they need a sacrifice. Though Father…” He broke off with a choked noise then ducked his head for a moment and waved a hand. “Never mind. I have seen the error of my ways and intend to tackle it with everything else. But this slave Father was talking about… from what I remember of his rant, it went far beyond anything that might be considered acceptable in decent society.”

Hawke had listened to all of that with curiosity and now he snorted. “Danarius was anything but decent society. Did your father follow through?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Dorian replied. “I confess I had my own troubles at the time and had little energy to spare to worry about a slave I didn’t know.”

Hawke made an hmph noise then he snorted. “I suppose I was pretty much the same at that age.”

“I suspect he did say something to the Magisterium. Father was never one to be all talk and no action,” Dorian said. “But whether or not they cared is another matter entirely. If Danarius had been anything other than another Magister, they might have taken action but if he had friends in the right places or wasn’t politically significant enough to make any action against him worthwhile, they probably did nothing.”

“That’d be right,” Hawke grumbled then he sighed and straightened his shoulders. “So, what are you doing out here at this time of night? Shouldn’t you be curled up with your man?”

Dorian blushed a little at having his relationship with Cullen so openly mentioned then he grimaced. “I was but I… had a nightmare. Couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“About the Fade,” Hawke said heavily. It wasn’t a question. “Same here.” His shoulders slumped again and he looked rather miserable. “I wish Fenris was here. He’d tell me I was being an idiot and drag me back to bed.”

“He sounds very sensible.”

Both Hawke and Dorian gave a start at the sound of Cullen’s voice then the man in question walked over. He came up behind Dorian and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him back against his chest. Dorian closed his eyes then Cullen’s warmth seeped through the shirt he was wearing and he slumped back against his lover.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Amatus.”

“You didn’t,” Cullen said warmly. “I just woke up and wondered where you’d gone.”

Dorian turned in his embrace and saw that though Cullen was fully awake and alert, there were still dark shadows under his eyes and he looked tired and drawn. More so than even the current circumstances should have brought about. He tried to remember whether Cullen had looked anything like this before the siege but he couldn’t. 

“Cullen,” he said, instantly worried. He brushed his fingers along the other man’s jaw. “Amatus, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Cullen said with a small smile. “It’s just been a very long day.”

“That it has.” They both turned and saw that Hawke was watching them with an expression that said he found them _adorable_. “Cullen, you should drag him back to bed and have your wicked way with him. I’ve been told you’re very flexible these days.”

Cullen looked startled then mortified and even in the dim light coming from the encampment, they could see his blush. Dorian chortled and pulled Cullen into a quick kiss.

“You know, that’s not such a bad idea,” he said roguishly.

“I think it’s the best idea to get me out of this situation as quickly as possible,” Cullen said.

Hawke laughed and flapped his hands at them. “Go on. Go. I’m going to seek my bed and see if I can’t get some more sleep.”

Cullen took the hint and he and Dorian made their way back to his tent. Once they were inside, Cullen started backing Dorian towards the bed, his hands sliding underneath the shirt Dorian was wearing. _His_ shirt, something he was well aware of.

“Apparently I should have my wicked way with you,” he said in a low, deep tone.

Dorian felt his weariness slough away and he smirked. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

Cullen chuckled and they fell back on the bed, where their tiredness gave way to something far more intimate.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um, this chapter is almost entirely Maxwell and Cassandra. I hope you don't mind but I needed to get these two goobers together.
> 
> Also, I know I owe replies to comments. I will get that done, I've just been having... brain problems. *headdesk*

Maxwell came awake with a stifled scream and he had flailed his way out of his blankets and halfway across the tent before he really came awake enough to remember he was no longer in the Fade. He drew in a long shuddering breath then gave another stifled scream when a hand came down to rest on his shoulder. The hand was abruptly yanked away and he followed it back to… Cassandra.

“Oh, Maker. I’m sorry, Cassandra,” he babbled, reaching out towards her. “I didn’t mean… I just… I thought…” He drew in another breath and let it out slowly before managing a wan smile. “Actually I’m not sure what I thought.”

Cassandra gave him a small, uncertain smile. “No, I am the one who should apologise. It was clear you were not yet fully aware of where you were.”

Maxwell wasn’t sure how to answer that and he curled up a little where he was still sitting on the floor. Cassandra watched him for a moment then sat down cross-legged beside him.

“What were you dreaming about, Inquisitor?”

Maxwell gave her an imploring look. “Do… do you think you could call me Maxwell? I really don’t want to be the Inquisitor right now. It’s a terrible job.”

Cassandra’s smile was small but there was a wealth of understanding in it. “Of course, Maxwell.”

Silence settled between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable or expectant, it was simply… there. Maxwell felt a little more of the tension in him start to dwindle and he closed his eyes.

“I was in the Fade again. And… and everyone was there, not just Dorian and Varric and Blackwall. You were all there but you looked…” He shuddered and quickly opened his eyes again. “You looked like… corpses. But walking ones. Like in the Fallow Mire.”

“It was just a dream. We are all here and we are all well.”

Cassandra shifted so that her shoulder was pressed against his and Maxwell let out a shuddering breath and leaned against her.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I… I was just looking at everyone one by one and I could _see_ you out of the corner of my eye and I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to see you like that but I couldn’t stop myself from turning.” He shrugged a little. “That was when I woke up.”

There was a moment of silence then Cassandra spoke gently but firmly, “Maxwell.”

“Uhuh.”

“Look at me.”

Maxwell forced himself to turn and look at the woman sitting beside him. Cassandra looked… like Cassandra. Whole and healthy, if a little tired. Like she’d just beaten an army of Wardens and mages and demons into submission and was satisfied by the result. Really just… beautiful.

“Hi,” he said, managing a weak smile.

Cassandra looked amused. “Hello.”

Maxwell’s mouth twitched in grimace. “Guess you must think I’m pretty pathetic… getting all worked up over a dream.”

Cassandra hesitated for a moment then reached over and took his hand in one of hers. “No, I do not.” Her tone was so matter-of-fact that Maxwell could do little more than believe what she was saying. “I have had a chance to speak to Blackwall and Varric. You walked in the Fade and you faced a Nightmare demon. You were forced to leave a man you liked and respected behind. That you have bad dreams after all that has happened is entirely natural.” She paused and when she spoke again, her voice was much quieter. “I only wish that I had been there with you.”

Maxwell looked down at their joined hands. “I wish you’d been there too. I might have felt less scared.”

“It is a wise person who admits they feel fear.”

“Do you ever feel afraid?” Maxwell asked, looking over towards Cassandra.

She gave a short harsh laugh. “All of the time, Maxwell.”

Maxwell stared at her. “Really?”

Cassandra looked amused for a moment then she looked into the distance. “Courage isn’t an absence of fear, Maxwell. That is insanity. Courage is acknowledging your fear and doing what needs to be done anyway.”

“Oh,” Maxwell said. “I never thought about it like that.”

“You have been doing just that ever since you woke up in Haven,” Cassandra said. “Do not think I haven’t noticed.”

Maxwell blinked then he grinned a little. “I’m not sure I had any choice. I was pretty well convinced at first that if I tried to run away, you’d chase after me and drag me back by my ankles.”

Cassandra tried to look disapproving but a smile was playing around her lips. “I would have allowed you to remain upright at the very least.”

“Very generous of you,” Maxwell said, grinning.

He stared at her for a moment as his grin softened into a smile then he leaned closer. He ran his fingers along her jaw and gently kissed her. For a moment she went still against him then she was kissing him back and he could have cheered if he wasn’t doing something far more important. The kiss was soft and gentle and almost delicate. It was sweet and romantic and he _loved_ it. And when they parted, he could only smile happily at her.

Cassandra raised her fingers to touch her lips, her expression almost wondering. “Maxwell…”

“I’m going to do the candles and poetry and flowers, you know,” Maxwell said, still unable to stop smiling. “Because you deserve all of that. But I just want you… you… you’re amazing. I can’t stop thinking about you, even when I should be thinking about things like Corypheus.”

“Maxwell…” Cassandra began.

“And I don’t want you to change,” Maxwell said hurriedly. “I don’t want you to be all ladylike and wear a dress. Unless you want to, I mean. If you do, that’s fine. But I’m absolutely okay with you being… well, _you_. I love that you can kick my arse and everyone else’s arse as well. Hell, you could probably kick all our arses simultaneously. Which is pretty awesome.”

“Maxwell,” Cassandra said again, a little more firmly this time.

“And I… I just love you,” he finished, sounding a little plaintive. Then he realised what he’d said and started to blush. He didn’t drop his eyes however and he saw an answering blush on Cassandra’s cheeks.

Cassandra opened her mouth to reply then closed it again. Finally she reached out and caresses his cheek. “You do?”

Maxwell leaned into her touch. “Yes.”

“Maxwell.” This time his name was said in a soft, wondering tone and she leaned in to kiss him. Again it was soft and gentle and nothing more than that.

When this second kiss ended, Maxwell could have honestly turned cartwheels, he was so happy. Instead he yawned.

“Maker! I’m sorry,” he said, horrified and embarrassed.

Cassandra laughed and gave him a fond look. “I think it is time for you to try sleeping again, Maxwell. You have had a very long day.”

Maxwell grumbled under his breath about the yawning and the day in general but he allowed Cassandra to help him to his feet and back to the bed. He sat down heavily then frowned up at her.

“When were you planning on sleeping?”

“You should have someone watching over you,” Cassandra replied.

Maxwell gave her an unimpressed look. “That doesn’t mean you don’t need sleep. If you’re going to insist on watching over me, at least bring a bedroll in here.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m betting even the ever so stoic workaholic Commander Cullen is getting some rest right now.”

Cassandra looked like she wanted to argue the point but then she sighed and conceded. “Very well.”

Maxwell forced himself to stay awake until Cassandra returned with her bedroll rolled up under her arm. She set herself up not far away and then set her sword next to her bedroll and pulled off her boots and armour with a sigh of relief, leaving her in a loose shirt and breeches. She settled down in her bedroll then fixed him with a gimlet eye.

“Sleep, Maxwell.”

Maxwell grinned wearily. “Yes, dear.”

He heard the disgusted noise as he closed his eyes but as it was followed with a small chuckle, he figured he hadn’t upset her with that teasing comment. He forced himself to relax and much to his surprise, he quickly fell asleep.

He surfaced an indeterminate amount of time later to hear Cassandra speaking in a low voice with someone else. He nearly turned over and went back to sleep but when he prised his eyes open, the quality of the light told him it was well into the day. He knew no one would begrudge him the extra rest but he didn’t feel right just sleeping while everyone else was working. He grumbled under his breath and sat up, rubbing his face with one hand.

“My apologies, Maxwell. We did not mean to wake you,” Cassandra said.

Maxwell waved a hand. “That’s okay.” He squinted over at the Seeker and saw she was talking to Cullen… who looked _awful_. “Maker, Cullen, please tell me you actually slept last night.”

Cullen smiled wanly. “I did, Inquisitor.”

Maxwell gave him a dubious look and shoved the blankets back. “You look like you need at least a few more hours.”

“There’s too much work to do,” Cullen said with a shake of his head.

Maxwell continued to look dubious then he shook his head. Cullen was certainly able to out-stubborn him with ease. He decided to leave it to Cassandra to handle. Cullen might be able to out-stubborn him but he was no match for the Seeker.

“Do you need anything from me?” he asked.

“Just the approval to secure the fortress and start sending the wounded to Griffon Wing Keep and any others not needed back to Skyhold,” Cullen replied. “Once we’ve secured the fortress, Rylen will be able to handle things here.” He paused. “I’d also like permission to send the Wardens to Skyhold immediately. Given their particular vulnerabilities, I’d like to get them under our watch as quickly as possible.”

“Approved. All of it,” Maxwell said. “Though we can’t keep the Wardens in Skyhold indefinitely.”

“I know, Inquisitor. There will be plenty for them to do, just… not here.”

Maxwell nodded and Cullen gave a short bow before leaving the tent. Maxwell watched him go then looked over to Cassandra.

“Is he alright?”

Cassandra considered the question for a moment then she nodded. “He is simply being stubborn.”

“Well, we both know who’s going to win that battle,” Maxwell joked. He stood up and stretched then what they’d said and done the previous night came flooding back and he blushed. “Um, hi.”

Cassandra laughed and walked over to kiss him. “Good morning. Now, since you are awake, I have my own duties to fulfil.” She paused and looked almost shy. “Perhaps we might take dinner together this evening?”

Maxwell grinned, probably a little stupidly but he didn’t care. “Yes! I’d like that.”

Cassandra smiled and nodded then left the tent. Maxwell watched her go then gave himself a shake and turned his attention to dressing and sorting out whatever it was that needed the Inquisitor’s attention today.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to Cullen and Dorian. They get back to Skyhold but Dorian gets dragged out again. In his absence, Cullen's situation gets worse. Basically? It's Perseverance with Dorian instead of the Inquisitor.

When the enormous fortress in the Frostbacks came into view, Dorian was surprised to find that the trip back to Skyhold had seemed to pass faster than the trip out to the Western Approach. He didn’t think they had been travelling any faster than they had on the way out but the perception was still there. Possibly it was because he hadn’t been looking forward to the attack on Adamant, whereas now they were simply home. He smiled a little at the idea of calling Skyhold home. Certainly the freezing old pile of stones in the middle of the mountains felt more like home than anywhere in Tevinter but he suspected that had less to do with the fortress itself and more to do with the people within it. 

The smile evaporated from his face when Cullen rode into view, barking orders to the soldiers marching into the fortress. He’d noticed his lover was looking drawn and tired the day after the siege but Cullen hadn’t improved much on the trip home. In fact, if anything he was looking worse. It certainly seemed that his headaches were increasing in frequency and strength but when Dorian had ventured a few questions, Cullen had brushed them off with the observation that he had a great deal to do and he was just overly tired. He’d be better after some sleep back at Skyhold.

Dorian wanted to believe that but he didn’t feel entirely comfortable pushing the matter with Cullen, especially since he was being less than forthright about his own nightmares. It wasn’t that he was deliberately keeping things from Cullen or that he was being too lax with making his lover _talk_ to him, he just didn’t feel that the trip home had been the right time or place. A tent was hardly the most private place for those kinds of discussions and Cullen _did_ have a large number of responsibilities and duties when the army was on the march.

As it turned out, he still had a large number of duties and responsibilities once they were back and Dorian watched his lover listen to report after report from the scouts that were waiting for him. He sighed and headed for the library. He’d known how seriously Cullen took his duties before he’d gotten involved with the man, there was no point getting annoyed about it now. Besides, it was better to let Cullen deal with everything now and have his undivided attention later.

When he got to the library, he found that several of the books he’d asked for had arrived while they’d been away and he happily ensconced himself into some research. He’d been at it for a few hours when the Inquisitor appeared at the entrance to his little alcove.

“Inquisitor! How delightful to see you. No more trips into the Fade scheduled, I hope.”

Dorian was aware he sounded perhaps a little _too_ chipper and from Maxwell’s expression, he was debating whether or not to point it out. Dorian was relieved when he clearly decided not to.

“Not the Fade, no, but Crestwood’s not that far off.”

Dorian frowned. “Crestwood? I thought we’d sorted everything out there.”

“The dragon is being feisty,” Maxwell said with a sigh. “It nearly ate two of our patrols and a merchant caravan.”

“A dragon?” Dorian said dubiously. “You want me to fight a dragon?”

“Not on your own. I was planning on bringing Bull, Cassandra and Varric with us.”

“Well, that makes me feel so much better,” Dorian said dryly. “Wait. Actually it does. Can’t we just send Cassandra out against it? Isn’t that what her family does? Single-handedly take down dragons?”

Maxwell chuckled. “She might get a bit peeved with me if I did that and I’ve made too much progress to start backtracking now.”

“Progress?” Dorian said with glee. “What kind of progress?”

“Never you mind.” Maxwell laughed. “It’s good though.”

Dorian laughed. “So when are you dragging me off to face this dragon?”

Maxwell grimaced and hesitated. “Today?”

“What?” Dorian yelped. “ _Today_? We only just got back!”

“I know,” Maxwell said miserably. “And I hate dragging everyone out immediately again but the merchants are refusing to go near Crestwood until the dragon is sorted out. If I felt we could delay this, I would. You know that.”

Dorian sighed. “Very well. Let me get myself organised and I’ll see you down in the courtyard.”

Maxwell gave him a weak smile and headed downstairs. Dorian glared at the book he’d been reading for a moment then reluctantly put it down. It only took a few minutes to gather his things – mostly because he hadn’t unpacked from Adamant yet so apart from replacing some clothes in need of cleaning and repair, he had little to do – and then he headed for Cullen’s office. When he got there, Cullen was meeting with a number of his senior officers but when he saw the look on Dorian’s face, he excused himself for a moment and joined Dorian on the battlements.

“I know,” he said with a sigh.

“It really is that urgent?”

Cullen nodded. “The merchants are up in arms. We assured them it was safe and then the dragon attacks one of the first caravans to head there.”

“Marvellous,” Dorian said dryly. “Well, dragon hunting it is then.”

“Between Cassandra and Bull, you shouldn’t have too much trouble,” Cullen offered.

Dorian decided not to comment on that because he couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t sarcastic or pithy and Cullen deserved neither from him, especially when he still looked so exhausted.

“I was hoping for a passionate goodbye actually,” he said instead.

Cullen’s eyes widened and he gestured a little towards the battlements. “Here?”

Dorian hesitated then smiled. “Yes.”

It worth the nerves and the thumping of his heart at the thought of such a public display to see the smile that broke over Cullen’s tired face. He closed the gap between them and leaned into Cullen when the man wrapped his arms around him. The kiss started out calm and gentle but rather quickly turned a little more heated as Cullen pressed him back against the stone of the battlements. It wasn’t until they heard Bull’s whistle and Varric’s laughter that they separated.

Cullen blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Dorian said with a smirk and a quick press of his lips against Cullen’s. “I’ll see you soon. Get some rest while I’m gone.”

Cullen smiled again. “I will.” 

Dorian gave him a small wave before skipping down the stairs to join the others.

“Nice work, Vint,” Bull said cheerfully.

“Who knew Curly had it in him,” Varric said, looking amused.

Dorian glared at Bull to curtail the obscene response that he could see the Qunari wanted to make to that comment. He could feel his heart still thumping in his chest but the nerves were dying down rapidly at the obvious approval of the others. Even Cassandra was looking at him with the faintest of approving smiles on her face.

“Yes, yes,” he said, pretending to be irritated though he doubted the others were buying it. He quickly mounted his horse. “I sincerely hope we won’t be appearing in any of the execrable dross you pass off as literature, Varric.”

The dwarf grinned. “I make no promises, Sparkler, not when I have such excellent examples put on display right in front of me.”

Dorian made a rude gesture that made Varric laugh and then the Inquisitor lead them out of the fortress. He looked back just as they passed through the gates and saw that Cullen was still standing on the battlements, watching them go. When he saw Dorian looking up at him, he raised a hand in farewell. Dorian echoed the gesture then they were through the gates and heading down the road towards Crestwood.

The dragon had been troublesome. Large, feisty and prone to spitting out great wads of electrical magic, it had taken a group effort to bring her down and the only one who had been even remotely enthusiastic about it afterwards had been Bull. In fact, Bull’s enthusiasm had been somewhat on the disturbing side and Dorian was very sure he didn’t want a translation of the Qunlat he’d been spouting both during and after the battle. He was just ready to go home.

Thankfully they were able to leave the clean-up of the dragon to Charter and her people and after a short stop at the keep to wash and have their injuries treated, they were back on the road to Skyhold. Dorian couldn’t be entirely sure but he didn’t think he was the only one to push the pace as much as the horses could manage. 

When they arrived back at Skyhold, he made a beeline for his room so that he could sink into a large tub of hot water. Once he’d soaked the aches out of his muscles, he dressed again and went to find Cullen. He was somewhat surprised to find that he wasn’t in his office, since he knew that no one was in the War Room. There was however a scout in the office, who was dropping off more reports. She looked around when he walked in and gave him a sketchy salute.

“If you’re looking for the Commander, Lord Pavus, I think he’s over with the Seeker.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow at that and gave the scout an absent-minded thank you. He made his way down to the smithy and walked in on what seemed to be an argument.

“You asked for my opinion and I’ve given it,” Cassandra was saying with an edge of irritation in her voice. “Why would you expect it to change?”

Cullen’s voice was trenchant and bitter when he responded. “I expect you to keep your word. It’s relentless. I can’t…”

“You give yourself too little credit.”

“If I’m unable to fulfil what vows I kept, then _nothing_ good has come of this. Would you rather save face than admit…”

They both broke off when they realised that Dorian had walked into the room. Cassandra still looked exasperated, though Dorian felt it wasn’t directed at him, but Cullen looked even worse than when he’d left and when he glanced over at Dorian, he seemed broken and ashamed.

“We will speak of this later,” Cullen growled at Cassandra then he pushed past Dorian and stalked out of the room.

Dorian almost went after him but instead he stayed and raised an eyebrow at Cassandra.

“What was that all about?”

 

“And people say _I’m_ stubborn. This is ridiculous,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Then she seemed to size him up and gave a small nod, more to herself than to him. “Cullen has asked that I recommend a replacement for him.” Before Dorian could do more than open his mouth to protest, she waved a hand dismissively. “I refused. It’s not necessary.”

She paused and her expression softened. “Besides, you and I both know it would destroy him. He’s come so far.”

“Why wouldn’t he speak to me about this?” Dorian demanded, trying not to feel hurt.

Cassandra seemed to see it anyway. “We had an agreement long before he ventured into a relationship with you. As a Seeker, I could evaluate the dangers and make a judgement.” She paused. “But you are right, he should have spoken about this with you. Go to him, Dorian.”

Dorian gave her a nod and headed for the door. He paused with one hand on the handle and looked back.

“Thank you. For…”

Cassandra waved a hand. “There is no need for thanks. He is being ridiculous. He _can_ get through this.” She looked over at the fireplace, her expression contemplative. “Mages have always made their grievances known but Templars never have. His success in this will offer hope for all Templars that they need not remain bound to the Chantry.”

Dorian felt a bit of awe at the level of faith Cassandra had in Cullen. He could only wish that Cullen had even half that faith in himself. He gave her a nod and then made his way up to Cullen’s office. As he opened the door, he heard a frustrated growl from inside and a wooden case and its contents came flying past him and hit the wall beside the door. A vial of lyrium smashed itself to pieces on the floor.

“Maker!” Cullen gasped, his eyes wide. “Forgive me, Dorian. I didn’t mean…”

Dorian looked down at the broken remains of the lyrium kit and then at the exhausted man leaning against the desk and made a decision. He leaned out the door and gestured to the nearest scout.

“Would you please go and tell the Inquisitor, Sister Leliana and Ambassador Montilyet that the Commander will be unavailable for the rest of the day and any urgent matters are to either wait until tomorrow or be directed to Seeker Pentaghast.”

“Certainly, my Lord,” the scout said with a quick salute before he ran off.

“Dorian…” Cullen began.

“No, Amatus,” Dorian said firmly, coming over to stand in front of his lover. This close, he could see that Cullen was pale and sweating and clearly in some pain. “I can only agree with Cassandra. This is ridiculous.”

A wave of irritation washed over Cullen’s face but before he could say anything, Dorian continued.

“It has gotten bad, hasn’t it?”

For a moment it looked like Cullen was going to deny it but then he simply crumpled, his shoulder’s slumping and tears welling in his eyes. It was the latter as much as anything else that had Dorian stepping forward to wrap his arms around the other man. Cullen just melted into his embrace, his forehead dropping onto Dorian’s shoulder.

“It’s relentless,” he said, his voice full of despair. “It’s almost as bad as it was at the beginning.”

Dorian had taken the time to look up what little information there was about lyrium and had even spoken to the small group of Templars who had chosen to join the Inquisition. From there, he’d been able to formulate some theories and potential scenarios and unfortunately it seemed at least one of his theories was likely correct.

He ran his hand gently through Cullen’s hair. “I think this is the last of it, Amatus. The last of the lyrium leeching itself from your system, out of your very bones. The lyrium’s last hurrah, if you like. You’ll probably still always have some sort of symptoms but once you get past this, never this bad.”

He heard and felt the shuddering indrawn breath from his lover. He gently pushed Cullen back against the desk and started pulling off his armour.

“What you need now is _rest_. You’ve only been making things worse by overworking.”

Cullen shook his head though Dorian noticed he made no attempt to stop what he was doing. “There’s still so much work to do.”

“It can wait,” Dorian said firmly. “And anything that can’t wait can be handled by Cassandra for a day or two.” He sighed. “Amatus… _Cullen_ … there is _no one_ in this entire fortress who will begrudge you a day or two of rest. Would you like me to send for the Inquisitor so that he can confirm that?”

For a moment he thought Cullen might actually insist on that but then the man slumped down again and shook his head.

“If I cannot fulfill the vows that I have made…” he began then broke off when Dorian made a sound like an angry cat.

“Cullen! _No one_ doubts you.” He made another scathing sound. “The only person who doubts you is _you_.”

Cullen frowned. “I…”

“No,” Dorian said firmly, ignoring Cullen’s irritated look at his continual interruptions. He cradled Cullen’s face with one hand. “Amatus, you won’t be able to fulfill _any_ vows if you make yourself sick.” His voice took on an edge of asperity. “Or drop dead from over work.” He sighed and relented a little. “You have to give yourself time and actually _rest_. If you do that, your body will be able to get past this point quicker.”

Cullen looked like he wanted to argue some more but then he groaned and his whole body shuddered. Dorian stepped into him and braced him as Cullen dropped his head to his shoulder again. He could hear Cullen’s laboured breathing and the soft, almost inaudible sounds of pain he was making and he gently rubbed the man’s back until the pain subsided enough to allow Cullen to straighten once again.

“Alright,” Cullen said quietly.

Dorian smiled a little sadly. As much as he was glad he had won this particular argument, he hated that they’d had to have it in the first place. Partly because of the pain Cullen was experiencing and partly because of the man’s intense stubbornness.

“Good,” he said as he got rid of the last of Cullen’s armour, leaving it neatly stacked on the desk. “Upstairs. And show me how to open that window of yours.”

Cullen obediently headed for the ladder. “You hate the cold.”

“I know,” Dorian replied. “But I think you need the cool air a little more than I need to be toasty and warm.”

Cullen smiled wanly then once they were both upstairs, he demonstrated the clever little pulley system Dagna had constructed that opened and closed the window.

“Off to bed with you,” Dorian admonished.

He waited until Cullen had staggered towards the bed before opening the window. He grimaced a little at the wash of chilly air that came in but given the low level of fever he’d felt coming from Cullen, he knew the man would like it more than heat. Not that the room was likely to get too chilled, he realised after a moment. The window allowed a breeze in but not a howling gale.

He turned to find that Cullen had managed to pull his boots off but was now sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his forehead wearily. Dorian made a clucking sound and came over. 

“Come now, Amatus,” he said as he gently pulled off the man’s shirt. “Bed.”

Cullen allowed himself to be stripped down to his smalls then Dorian chivvied him under the blankets. He undressed to his smalls as well and crawled in with his lover. He wasn’t overly surprised when Cullen curled into him and he drew his lover close with his head tucked under his chin. They settled in silence for a while, though Dorian knew Cullen wasn’t asleep. The shivers wracking the man’s body and the tenor of his breathing told him that much.

“Did you kill the dragon?” Cullen murmured after several minutes.

“You are not supposed to be working,” Dorian said severely.

“Not working. Just interested.”

Dorian made a sceptical sound but answered the question anyway. “Yes, we did. The blasted thing liked throwing electricity around but Cassandra was frighteningly formidable and Bull… was just plain disturbing.”

“Disturbing?” There was a thread of amusement in Cullen’s voice.

“He was very _enthusiastic_ ,” Dorian said. “There was far too much laughing and cheering than is really proper for dragon slaying.”

He was rather pleased when he got a faint huff of laughter from Cullen and he gently threaded his fingers into Cullen’s hair. A small bit of ice magic cooled his fingers and he began to gently scratch the man’s scalp. He got a deep groan for his efforts and he laughed.

“Becoming quite the fan of magic, aren’t you?” he teased.

Cullen hummed his approval. “If it does that, then yes.”

Dorian chuckled again and kept up his slow gentle massage. “Good. Now sleep, Amatus. It’ll do you good.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodness me, look at this fluff. This really is fluff. Also there is a conspiracy. But the good kind of conspiracy.

Dorian woke with a start from another nightmare of the Fade, choking back a gasp and barely stopping himself from leaping from the bed. Somewhere in his subconscious he had remembered that he wasn’t alone and as such, his entire physical reaction was little more than a sudden jerk that did not wake Cullen, much to his relief. He looked down at the man in his arms and frowned when he saw that even in his sleep, Cullen looked pinched and drawn.

A glance up at the darkening sky outside the window told him it was early evening and he made a few decisions. He eased himself away from Cullen, sighing with relief when the man did not wake and simply curled up in the warmth where Dorian had been lying. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Cullen’s temple then slipped out of bed and got dressed.

He climbed down the ladder and saw that someone had clearly been in the office. Cullen’s armour was now neatly put away on the armour rack and a number of reports and papers had been removed from his desk. There was also a note pinned to the inside of the door leading to the main building. Dorian walked over and pulled it off the door. 

_Dorian,_

_I have spoken to the Inquisitor, Leliana and Josephine. If you can make him rest for tomorrow as well, we would all appreciate it. I have taken the most urgent requests on his desk and will deal with them myself. The scouts and runners have been told to bring any messages for Cullen to me. The kitchen staff have been informed that they are to provide you with whatever you need and Adan has left a supply of potions he says you will need in the Undercroft._

_If you need anything else, let me or Josephine know._

_Cassandra._

Dorian chuckled. There seemed to be something of a conspiracy brewing to look after Cullen since the man refused to do it himself. He tucked the note into his pocket and opened the door to find Varric leaning against the battlements about halfway between Cullen’s office and the main building. He glanced around and saw that Blackwall was whittling away on the battlements not far from the door on the barn side of the office and Sera was hanging from the rooftop on the building on the other side.

A slow smile grew on his face as he sauntered over to Varric. “I smell a conspiracy.”

“Given what I understand about Tevinter, I’m not surprised,” Varric replied with a grin.

“So what prompted all of this?”

“The Inquisitor seemed very concerned that Curly not be disturbed.” Varric somehow conspired to look unnervingly innocent. “A few us had some time on our hands so we decided to help out.” The dwarf sobered. “He didn’t look good on the way back from Adamant and I’ve seen that sort of thing before in Kirkwall. How bad is it really?”

“I think this will be the last of the truly bad times for him,” Dorian said.

Varric looked relieved. “Glad to hear that. He’s a good man and the first one I’ve ever seen not fall in a heap after leaving the Templars.”

“Were there many in Kirkwall?” Dorian asked, frowning a little. Cullen had mentioned in passing that Meredith had been harsh not only to the mages but also the Templars but he hadn’t gone into much detail and Dorian hadn’t thought to ask at the time.

“Yeah,” Varric said with a grimace. “A lot left though, heading for another city in the hopes of pleading their case for reinstatement with another Knight-Commander.”

“Did it work?”

“I never followed up to find out,” Varric admitted. “They weren’t causing trouble in Kirkwall and at the time, that’s all I cared about. The only one who really hung about was Samson and he…” Varric grimaced. “He might have been a good man once but he let the need for lyrium take him down some nasty paths.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Apparently,” he said dryly.

Varric snorted. “Yeah. Anyway, there’s not a lot of success stories around when it comes to lyrium.”

Dorian nodded thoughtfully. “How long are you lot planning on staying?”

“Just until we know the Seeker’s orders have percolated through all the scouts and runners,” Varric replied. “Some of them are a little slow on the uptake or a little too wedded to habit.”

Dorian made a disgruntled noise. “Yes, well, keep them out as much as you can. He’s asleep for the moment and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as I can.”

“You got it, Sparkler,” Varric said with a mock salute.

Dorian hurried inside, barely acknowledging Solas, and made his way to the kitchen. There was a fair amount of activity, unsurprising considering the hour, and he grimaced. Before he could leave however, one of the cooks saw him.

“Yes, m’Lord?”

“I’d rather not add too much to the work you’re doing but I need a tray of something that can…” He waved a hand in the air. “…tempt an appetite that might not be terribly interested in eating.”

The cook looked amused. “Aye, I know what you need. Give me half an hour to sort things out, m’Lord.”

Dorian nodded and retreated, relieved that whatever Cassandra had said to the kitchen staff seemed to have had an effect. He headed for the Undercroft and entered gingerly. Harritt still didn’t much care for him and he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the man’s dour glowering. However, when he walked in, Harritt was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Dagna for that matter. In fact, the only person in the Undercroft was Vivienne, who was hard at work brewing a potion of some description.

Vivenne looked around when he approached and gave him a rather regal nod. “I’m glad you’re here, Dorian. Adan has left these for you.” She nodded to a small wooden chest on the table. “But I was about to add a potion or two of my own making. They are especially good for bodily aches and pains.”

Dorian stared at her for a moment then chuckled. “Why, Madame de Fer, I never knew you cared.”

Vivienne gave him a very imperious and very unimpressed look. “The Commander and I may not agree on certain matters but he is a fine man doing an exemplary job under very difficult circumstances.”

“That he is,” Dorian said, softening a little. He closed the gap between them. “Now tell me of this potion you are making.”

Vivienne’s explanation filled up most of half hour he needed to give the kitchen staff and when he returned to the kitchen with the small chest tucked under his arm, it was to find the cook he’d spoken to earlier putting the finishing touches to a tray. The man waved him over when he saw Dorian enter.

“Little bits and pieces, m’Lord. All full of flavour but nothing heavy on the stomach and it’ll keep as long as you need,” the cook said with some satisfaction. “Should get him eating a decent meal without noticing it and afterwards…” The cook grinned in a conspiratorial manner as he uncovered a small plate with a flourish to reveal a selection of small cakes and sweets. “Ambassador Montilyet provided these for when you needed ‘em.”

Dorian returned the grin. “He won’t believe it if I tell him how much people are doing for him.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Or he’ll feel guilty.”

The cook tsked. “He doesn’t eat right, I’ll tell you that much. The scullery maids are always saying how he’s in here at odd hours scrounging up a meal because he’s worked through dinner.” He gave Dorian an approving nod. “I know it’s not my place to comment but… he’s better when you’re here, m’Lord, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Dorian sighed again. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. Thank you for this.”

The cook nodded. “Yer welcome, m’Lord.”

The man bustled off into the organised chaos of the kitchen and Dorian scooped up the tray. He made his way back to Cullen’s office then wrangled himself, the tray and the chest of potions up the ladder, cursing under his breath at the inconvenience of his lover’s living arrangements. He was relieved to find that Cullen was still asleep, though from the pinched look on his face and the way he was twitching and moaning under his breath, it wasn’t peacefully. 

He set the tray down on the small table that had appeared in the room after the roof had been fixed and quickly stripped down to his smalls again. He crawled into the bed and drew Cullen into his arms, running one hand soothingly down the man’s back. Cullen made a small pained sound then curled into him. Dorian thought he might actually sleep through but then he felt Cullen move against him in a way that definitely wasn’t due to sleep.

“D’rian?”

“Who else?”

Cullen blinked up at him and winced.

“Head hurts?” Dorian asked.

“Everything hurts,” Cullen replied wearily.

Dorian rubbed his back gently. “I’ve got some potions for you and something to eat.” He chuckled at the disgruntled sound Cullen made. “I know you probably don’t feel like eating much but you should at least try.”

Cullen muttered something under his breath. “I should…”

“ _Rest_ ,” Dorian said firmly. “You should rest. Cassandra’s already taken everything urgent off your desk and the Inquisitor wants you to rest tomorrow as well.”

“Dorian, I can’t,” Cullen said, though Dorian could feel the way he curled in on himself a little at the very thought of moving. No matter what he was saying, his subconscious was rebelling against it.

Dorian ran his fingers through Cullen’s hair, which was now settling into its natural curls. “Yes, you can, Amatus. In fact, the Inquisitor has said so.”

For a moment, Cullen seemed to want to argue some more then he slowly relaxed completely. “Outnumbered, am I?” he mumbled.

“Very much so.”

Cullen suddenly tensed and made a pained noise. Dorian scratched gently at his scalp until he relaxed again then caressed the side of his lover’s face.

“Let me just get up, Amatus.”

Cullen shifted enough to allow Dorian to get out of bed. He collected the potions he wanted and moved the tray of food to the small table beside the bed. He suspected he was going to have to coax Cullen into eating but he knew ways of doing that. He got back into bed and caressed Cullen’s face.

“Do you think you can sit up, Amatus?”

Cullen nodded a little then with Dorian’s help and a lot of wincing and rubbing at his forehead, he sat up. 

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, clearly frustrated with the failings of his own body.

“This will pass,” Dorian replied as patiently as he could manage. He poured the first potion, one of Adan’s, into a goblet and held it out. “Drink this.”

Cullen obediently drank the potion, grimacing at the taste though he recognised what it was and knew it would help with the headaches. Dorian poured one of Vivienne’s into the goblet.

“Courtesy of Madame de Fer,” he said without further comment.

“Will it kill me?” Cullen asked wryly.

“She has great respect for you even if you do disagree on certain matters,” Dorian replied. “So presumably, no.”

Cullen snorted but drank the potion readily enough. He handed the goblet back to Dorian and slumped down a bit, rubbing his forehead wearily. His head and body were aching and waves of pain ran through him regularly. He also felt a faint sense of guilt that he wasn’t working but he knew better than to say anything about that. Dorian’s response was likely to be caustic at the very least.

“Here.”

Cullen looked up to see Dorian offering him a small meat pie, barely wider than the length of his thumb. The smell of the pie wafted up to his nose and his stomach roiled. He honestly couldn’t say whether it was through hunger or nausea and he shook his head. Dorian gave him an unimpressed look.

“You have to eat, Amatus.”

“I’m not hungry,” Cullen said with a shake of his head.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Cullen.”

Cullen sighed. “Alright, yes, I probably am hungry but I’m also nauseous, Dorian.”

Dorian put the pie down and picked up a piece of apple. “Try this then.”

Cullen eyed it dubiously then sighed and took it. “If I throw up…”

“Try not to do so on me or the bed,” Dorian said dryly.

Cullen snorted and took a bite of the apple. He chewed and swallowed with the look of a man expecting the food to make a rapid reappearance. His stomach rolled for a moment then settled and he took another careful bite of the piece of apple. He could see the smug look settling on Dorian’s face out of the corner of his eye but decided not to comment on it. He was as unlikely to win that argument as he was the one about working tomorrow.

After he finished the piece of apple, he was offered more fruit. Since the first piece didn’t seem likely to make a precipitous return, he was willing to try eating some more. When the small pie was offered again, this time the smell of it didn’t turn his stomach and he accepted it. And when the pie was followed by a small, delicately made but rather simple sweet pastry, he actually managed a small smile.

“My reward for eating?” he said as he took the pastry.

“No, that comes later,” Dorian said with a smirk. “These are from Josephine.”

Cullen had to laugh softly at that. Josephine didn’t understand his rather simple taste in sweets at all but she happily provided them to him in order to get what she wanted. Apparently now she wanted him to eat. When he was done, Dorian leaned in and kissed him, licking the remnants of the sugar off his lips and making him chase after the man when he pulled back in spite of how he felt right now.

“ _That’s_ your reward for eating,” Dorian murmured.

Cullen smiled and leaned into him, resting his face in the crook of Dorian’s neck. The headache and body aches had been muted by the potions but he could still feel them thrumming away in the background. He felt tired and oddly heavy but he also felt… loved. Cared for. It was a stark contrast to how things had been when he’d first started this journey. Cassandra had been concerned of course but though their friendship had developed quickly, they’d barely been acquaintances at that point.

However despite his strange contentment, the demands of his job clamoured at the back of his mind. He tried to push them away but they simply got louder and he shifted in Dorian’s embrace.

“Those reports…” he began.

“Amatus, if you are going to fret about work, I may be forced to hit you over the head,” Dorian said with some exasperation. “Cassandra has the reports and she will see that they are handled. Do you doubt her ability to do so?”

“I… no,” Cullen replied. He sighed and let Dorian shift them both down until they were lying in bed, tangled together. Some of his aches eased and he finally conceded that he was going to rest whether he liked it or not. “Wouldn’t hitting me over the head be counterproductive?”

Dorian snorted. “Perhaps. Or perhaps not. I haven’t decided yet.” He kissed Cullen’s forehead. “Sleep, Amatus.”

Cullen wasn’t sure he was going to be able to sleep but between the potions, the food and Dorian’s fingers tangling in his hair and scratching wonderfully at his scalp, he soon found himself drifting off.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little chapter to transition from Cullen being unwell to Cullen recovering so that we can get him back on his feet. Also Dorian needed to learn a few things.

When Cullen woke, he realised he felt infinitely better. Not completely better but his headache was all but gone and the aches and pains in his body had faded down to a dull roar. He also became aware that he was alone in the bed but after a moment, he heard Dorian speaking in a low voice downstairs to someone. He shifted onto his back and listened for a moment.

“My dearest Leliana, you are honestly the most terrifying woman I know and, since that includes my mother, that is terrifying indeed but I will not allow Cullen to be disturbed until tomorrow at the earliest. Speak to Cassandra if the matter is truly that urgent.”

“Dorian…”

Cullen might have been a bit concerned except for the amusement rippling through Leliana’s voice on that single word.

“No, sweet Nightingale, I will not be moved.”

Leliana actually laughed at that. “If only we could all have someone as devoted to us as you are to Cullen.”

Cullen was expecting some sort of joking response to that but instead there was only silence from Dorian. Then Leliana gave the low rippling chuckle that he’d only heard a few times since they’d started working together.

“Oh, Dorian, I’ve known all along when your feelings for Cullen changed from mere interest to love.”

“I… yes, well… you truly are a terrifying woman.” Dorian sounded entirely discombobulated and Cullen smiled sadly. Dorian still wasn’t used to the idea of others knowing, Cassandra and Maxwell notwithstanding.

Leliana chuckled again. “Dorian, you are aware that the entirety of Skyhold knows of your little romance with Cullen? The soldiers think it’s adorable. They think you’re very good for him and that he’s been a great deal easier to deal with since you two got together.”

He could hear Dorian sputtering and he honestly wanted to do a bit of sputtering himself. The soldiers thought he was going easy on them, did they? He’d have to see about that!

Then Dorian stopped sputtering. “They do?” he said in such a fragile and wondering tone that Cullen almost climbed out of bed to go to him.

“They do.” The smile was obvious in Leliana’s voice and her tone was kind. “I know the crux of your disagreement with your father, Dorian, and I can assure that I and almost everyone here would stand with you against him. But that’s beside the point. Such prejudices do not exist here and everyone is _happy_ for the two of you.”

“I… well…” Dorian made a small harrumphing sound. “The things you say.”

“Are true,” Leliana said firmly.

A moment later, Cullen heard the door open and close. When Dorian didn’t appear at the top of the ladder in a reasonable amount of time, he sat up.

“Dorian?”

He heard a sound as though Dorian had given a start of surprise then in short order, the man emerged at the top of the ladder.

“How much did you hear?” he asked with a blank face as he came to sit down on the bed.

“Most of it, I think,” Cullen said. He reached out and took one of Dorian’s hands. He scowled. “They think I’ve been going easier on them, do they?”

For a moment, Dorian seemed actually physically waver then he laughed. If it was slightly strained, neither felt inclined to comment on that.

“That’s what you take out of that?” He shook his head. “That woman is terrifying.”

“I know,” Cullen said dryly. He raised Dorian’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “What’s wrong?”

Dorian was silent for a time and Cullen waited patiently.

“They know.”

“I… suspected,” Cullen replied. 

“Nobody said anything.”

“They were respecting our privacy.”

“So if I were to…” Dorian waved his free hand around. “…to kiss you when we were playing chess in the garden, no one would care?”

Cullen smiled. “Well, Mother Giselle might glare but that’s only because she disapproves of Tevinter in general, not because we’re both men.”

Dorian snorted and rolled his eyes. “That woman needs to follow the principles she espouses a bit better.”

Cullen chuckled. “She’s trying. We don’t get much in the way of solid fact out of Tevinter, mostly just rumour.”

Dorian dismissed that with a wave of his hand then looked down at their joined hands and smiled softly. After a moment, he drew in a breath and shook his head.

“How are you feeling?”

“A great deal better,” Cullen admitted.

Dorian placed his hand on Cullen’s forehead then ran it down his face in a caress. “Your colour is certainly better and you aren’t sweating and clammy like you were before.”

“My headache is mostly gone and the aches are done to something manageable,” Cullen said.

“Good. Still, another dose of the potions certainly wouldn’t do you any harm.”

Cullen grimaced. “True. I… could probably eat as well.”

Dorian rewarded him for that with a kiss as he got up. He handed over the potion doses then fetched the tray. He’d suspected everything he’d been given were things that would keep and taste just as fine cold as it had hot and he was proven correct. Cullen didn’t eat a great deal but he ate enough to satisfy Dorian. Afterwards, he slumped back down in the bed and curled into Dorian’s embrace but even as he did so, Dorian could almost feel him start to fret.

“I really should…”

“Don’t even say it, Amatus,” Dorian said with a snort. “If you get up and start working now, you’ll only end up relapsing and you know it. How many times have you done something like this in the past and kept working until Cassandra hit you over the head?”

The sheepish look on Cullen’s face was answer enough. Dorian sighed and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“What am I going to do with you?” The silence that came from Cullen made Dorian look at him with a frown. “Cullen?”

There was a hint of pink on Cullen’s cheeks when he answered. “I… could think of a few things.”

Dorian stared at him for a moment with surprise then he began to chuckle. Cullen was an enthusiastic participant in their bedroom activities and he didn’t hesitate to initiate things between them but _talking_ about it wasn’t usually his forte. “As much as I would very much like to ravish you, I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

“I’m sure I could handle something a little less intense than a ravishing,” Cullen replied.

“I’m sure you could,” Dorian said, leaning in to kiss Cullen lightly. “But I’d rather wait until you’re up for that ravishing, even if no actual ravishing actually occurs.”

He felt a familiar clench in his chest as he waited for Cullen’s response. He hadn’t often dared to deny sex to a partner in the past. Not that he’d ever really had someone he would call a partner before. Maybe Rilenius came close but he’d never dared to deny Rilenius sex in fear that he would turn elsewhere. He didn’t mean that in a bad way. He and Rilenius hadn’t been able to get together very often so when they _had_ , they’d both been very, _very_ interested in having sex. But he’d never _quite_ been able to shake the feeling that if he’d ever said no, that he just wanted to… well, to cuddle, Rilenius might have walked out on him.

Cullen grumbled amiably and then settled down in Dorian’s arms. “You’re probably right.”

Dorian snorted to cover the sheer amount of relief he felt. “Probably? Amatus, I’m _always_ right.”

“Of course you are,” Cullen said dryly.

“I am going to ignore the scepticism in your tone,” Dorian said in an airy tone. “And simply assume that was you agreeing with me.”

Cullen chuckled and nuzzled into Dorian’s neck. “Yes, dear.”

Dorian laughed and drew Cullen closer. He ran his hands through the man’s hair until he felt him drift off to sleep again.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the ball at Halamshiral and Cullen is not impressed. He does get to dance with Dorian though so it's not all bad.

Cullen’s return to work was done without fanfare, much to his relief. While it was true that Cassandra and Maxwell both dropped in to check on him, they were the only ones. Not that Cullen didn’t suspect that Maxwell was going to update everyone who wanted to know about his condition but at least he wasn’t doing it right in front of him. And Cassandra had done an excellent job with his work so he certainly had nothing to complain about on that score either.

He also had to admit that the full day’s rest, much of which had been spent sleeping, had done wonders for his general well-being. The aches of the withdrawal weren’t gone but they had subsided down to a dull roar and the seemingly ever-present headache was actually absent for once. All in all, it had put him in a rather good mood, which meant he faced the piles of paperwork on his desk with reasonably good cheer.

He was in the middle of that paperwork when an idea came to him. He couldn’t do it immediately. It would take time and he couldn’t, in good conscience, take any time off now right after he’d been absent for illness. That and they had the ball at Halamshiral to prepare for. But afterwards… yes, afterwards there might be time to take a few days and truly show his appreciation for Dorian’s love and care. He knew Dorian was wave away such a thing, trained by his homeland to be embarrassed at being caught caring in the first place, but Cullen didn’t intend to let his actions go unrewarded. With that decision made, he went back to work.

It was just as well that Cullen had that to look forward to as the preparations for the ball moved into full swing and when he wasn’t stuck in endless meetings discussing what may or may not happen, he was forcibly attending Josephine’s lectures on the Orlesian court and how to behave in it or having a fitting for the uniforms Josephine and Vivienne had decided on. He’d have almost called it a relief to finally be at the ball except he quickly found himself a subject of fascination to the ladies and gentlemen of the court and all he could really think to do was wedge himself into a corner so they could only approach him in small numbers and he was reasonably safe from wandering hands. Leliana was nearby it was true but from the faint amusement that flashed over her face whenever she looked in his direction, he wasn’t entirely sure he could expect any rescue from her. Not from this anyway.

When the gathered horde suddenly scattered like butterflies, he looked around in surprise, wondering what had prompted it. He almost laughed when he saw it was Cassandra, approaching like a thundercloud and he knew enough of a smirk had appeared on his face when Cassandra’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Do _not_ start with me,” she snapped as she took a position against the wall next to him.

“Who me?” he said innocently. “I would never.”

Cassandra snorted in what Cullen could only describe as an _especially_ unladylike fashion and he struggled to control his laughter again. It was nice to know that someone despised these sorts of things just as much as him. Perhaps even more.

“When were you planning on telling us that you speak Orlesian?” she murmured, leaning in against his shoulder.

“I can’t. Well, not really.”

Cassandra made a grumpy noise. “You understand it. You were in the leadership stream.”

Cullen nodded. “It was an optional course but it seemed useful.”

“Does Leliana know?”

“I always assume she knows everything,” Cullen said with a snort. “Why?”

“I don’t think she does know.” 

Cassandra looked faintly amused at the idea that something had slipped past Leliana. Cullen looked past her to where the Spymaster was standing. He frowned then shook his head.

“No, she knows. It’s on my official record with the Templars and she’s proven she’s gotten her hands on that.” He gave Cassandra an exasperated look. “Which you already know.”

Cassandra looked smug. “And now you are distracted.”

Cullen rolled his eyes then chuckled. “Yes, I am. Are you?”

“Mostly.”

They stood there in companionable silence for a moment, enjoying the fact that the Orlesian nobles were giving the two of them a wide berth. They stayed that way until Trevelyan appeared not far away and nodded to Cassandra.

“Have fun,” Cullen said dryly as Cassandra pushed herself off the wall with an expression of anticipation.

“It will undoubtedly be more entertaining than this,” Cassandra replied.

Cullen watched her go and was then dismayed to find the nobles start to circle in again. He sighed and squared his shoulders and tried to pretend he didn’t understand what they were whispering to each other in Orlesian. He wished he could go with Cassandra. He knew Dorian would be with the Inquisitor as well and he worried about both of them. It was stupid really. If ever there were two people capable of looking after themselves in a fight, it was those two but still… he worried.

“Stop scowling, Cullen. You’ll give these people the wrong idea.”

Cullen gave a start. He hadn’t noticed Leliana sidling up to him.

“I’m not sure it _is_ the wrong idea,” he grumbled.

Leliana laughed lightly. “Cullen. Smile, look pretty, pretend you don’t know what they’re saying and endure. It’s only one night after all and then we’re back to Skyhold and you can grouch about the Orlesian nobility all you like.”

“Promise?” Cullen said sourly.

Leliana laughed again. “Yes, I promise. Now smile. Or at least try not to look so grim.”

Cullen grumbled under his breath as Leliana sidled back to her position not far away and tried to school his expression into something calmer and less indicative of how he was really feeling. From the way Leliana rolled her eyes and then chuckled softly, he figured he’d at least partway managed to succeed. He smiled stiffly and made noncommittal comments to the nobility and only really relaxed again when he saw both Cassandra and Trevelyan walk back into the room. They looked only a little ruffled by whatever had happened and Trevelyan was quickly waylaid by the Grand Duchess. As they made their way to the dance floor, Cullen made eye contact with Cassandra. She nodded stiffly and Cullen was then forced to go back to paying attention to the nobles that were still gathered around him.

By the time the Grand Duchess was revealed as a traitor by a triumphant Trevelyan with her brother implicated alongside her and Celene was safe on the throne _and_ reconciled with her elven lover, Cullen was more than ready to leave. He slipped away from the burgeoning party and made his way out onto the nearest balcony and for the first time, he felt able to relax as he leaned against the railing and stared down into the gardens below.

“Is there something about Orlesian parties that drives people out onto balconies?”

Cullen smiled at the familiar voice and turned around, leaning against the railing. “I don’t know. Is there?”

Dorian closed the balcony doors and sauntered over. “Trevelyan’s sought sanctuary on a balcony as well. I’ve chosen to follow Cassandra’s lead.”

When Dorian got close enough, Cullen reached out and tucked his fingers into the sash tied around the other man’s waist. He thought that his lover wore the uniform Josephine and Vivienne had chosen far better than he did. He desperately wanted to pull the man closer but the doors were mostly glass and he knew Dorian’s feelings about displaying affection publicly. His thoughts must have shown on his face as Dorian hesitated and glanced over his shoulder.

“Dorian,” he said quietly. “It’s alright. I know…”

“No, it’s not alright.” 

Dorian scowled and shook his head then he closed the gap between them so he was leaning against him. Cullen slid his arm around Dorian’s waist and let his forehead fall onto his lover’s shoulder.

“They’re Orlesians, love. They won’t care,” he muttered, breathing in Dorian’s familiar scent.

Dorian nuzzled the side of Cullen’s head and closed his eyes. “I’m tired.”

Cullen wrapped his other arm around Dorian. “So am I.”

They stayed like that for a while, just leaning into each other, silent and calm, letting the tension of the evening slowly ebb away. Through the glass of the doors, they could hear the sounds of the orchestra playing and Dorian chuckled and pulled away enough to look at Cullen.

“Do you know that no one at all has asked me to dance this evening?” he mock-complained. “It’s been a terrible ball.”

Cullen chuckled and brushed Dorian’s cheek. “Is that so? Well, if you don’t mind putting up with my terrible attempts…” He eased away from Dorian then held a hand out and bowed slightly. “May I have this dance, Dorian?”

Dorian laughed and took his hand. They moved through the steps of the dance and Dorian realised that Cullen was right – he wasn’t a good dancer but that didn’t matter. Cullen _wanted_ to dance with him and Dorian was sure that if he’d been willing, Cullen would have danced with him in the middle of the ballroom. 

“You know, Cassandra was giggling about you the first time Trevelyan dragged us off into the depths of the palace,” he said in a conversational tone.

Both of Cullen’s eyebrows went up in sheer disbelief and he stuttered a bit in the steps of the dance. “Cassandra… _giggled_?”

“Well, no,” Dorian admitted. “But she had a smirk on her face that might as well have been a giggle for her.”

Cullen sighed. “Apparently my dislike of these sorts of things is a source of great amusement.”

“No one hates the Orlesians and their frippery quite like a Fereldan,” Dorian teased.

Cullen laughed sheepishly. “I suppose that’s true.”

Dorian laughed and deftly backed Cullen up again the wall beside the doors. He pressed close and captured his lover’s lips in a gentle kiss. Cullen relaxed into the kiss, his arms snaking around Dorian’s waist, and they stayed there like that, just kissing gently for a while.

“I thought we were dancing,” Cullen said with a soft smile when they finally parted.

“I like this better.”

Cullen chuckled and they went back to those gentle kisses until someone knocked on the door. They parted and Cullen straightened his uniform before moving into view of whoever was knocking. He relaxed when he saw it was Leliana and opened the doors.

“We’re ready to go,” Leliana said with a smile. “We’re just waiting on you and Dorian.”

Cullen blushed a little but then Dorian appeared at his elbow, looking entirely unmussed, and they join the Spymaster.

“Thank the Maker,” the mage said. “I think I’ve had enough of Orlesian nobles to last me for at least a year or two.”

“Missing home?” Leliana said, mischief gleaming in her eyes as she fell into step with them.

“This is far too sedate to be anything like home,” Dorian replied airily. “All the screaming and spilling of blood was kept out of sight instead of occurring on the dance floor.”

Cullen frowned. “I’d really like to think you were joking about that.”

“I honestly wish I was,” Dorian said with a snort. “But it’s really not a worthy society function at home until there’s at least one attempted assassination and the blood magic’s started.”

“And I thought the Orlesians were bad,” Cullen said wryly.

Dorian shook his head and laughed. “I’m torn between wanting to take you there because you’d baffle them entirely and keeping you far, far away because they’d eat you alive.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be much of a threat to them.”

A complicated array of emotions flickered across Dorian’s face. “As much as I’d love to see some of their faces if you used the Purge or Silence on them, I much prefer you to _not_ be taking lyrium, Amatus.”

“I agree,” Leliana added.

Cullen sighed. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know about that now?”

Leliana chuckled. “Actually very few do. The Inquisitor, Cassandra and Dorian, of course. I figured it out and I tricked Cassandra into confirming it.” She gave a secretive little smirk there that was almost all amusement. Cullen knew Leliana liked teasing her opposite Hand and that Cassandra found it exasperating and rather fun, though she’d never admit the latter. “I told Josephine just recently. She was ready to summon every healer in Thedas to help you and I thought I’d better head that off rather quickly.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said dryly. “I appreciate the sentiment but they couldn’t really do anything.”

Leliana nodded. “As for anyone else… well, Bull may well have guessed but he wouldn’t say anything. I believe Varric has worked it out as well.”

“He has,” Dorian said. “He said he’s seen it before in Kirkwall.”

Cullen sighed. “No doubt he has. Meredith was no kinder to the Templars who rebelled against her than she was to the mages.”

“Hmph,” Dorian said. “Why did no one outside the Order do anything about her?”

“Who was there to do anything?” Cullen said with a frustrated gesture. “The Viscount died at the hands of the Qunari and Grand Cleric Elthina… well, I don’t know what she was doing.”

“She was doing what she thought was right,” Leliana said reprovingly.

Cullen sighed. “I suppose I can’t talk. What did I do and I was Meredith’s second in command?”

“Now, now,” Dorian said. “Enough of that talk. It’s in the past and I’m sorry I brought it up.”

They had reached the carriages by now and they were quickly lost in the routine of getting into the carriages and Cullen and Dorian found themselves sharing a carriage with Leliana and Josephine. They started a low voiced conversation about the ball and Cullen allowed himself to lean into Dorian a little. However he quickly noticed that they weren’t going back to the inn they had been staying in.

“Where are we going?”

Josephine looked over and smiled. “The Empress has offered us the use of one of her houses in gratitude for all we have done for her. Given that there were Venatori forces in Halamshiral and we have just sent the Grand Duke to the headsman’s axe, I thought it prudent to accept.”

Cullen straightened. “Is there…?”

Josephine waved him silent. “Leave it to the Orlesians, Commander. After the events of the evening, they wish to prove themselves to us. Let them do so and get some rest.” Her gaze flickered ever so briefly over to Dorian. “You need it.”

Cullen blushed a little at the implied suggestion in that flick of her eyes. He wanted to protest but he suspected he would be overruled by everyone so he conceded with a grumble. When they arrived at their destination, even he had to admit that not only was the building itself secure, the sheer number of Orlesian guards present almost rendered their security measures unnecessary. As such, he allowed himself to retire to his assigned rooms with only a brief word with his people.

When he got there, he was glad he had been brief. The room overlooked a small courtyard and standing in the open doors leading out to the balcony was Dorian. Who was very, very naked and already half hard.

“Maker preserve me,” Cullen breathed and he quickly locked the door to the room.

Dorian turned around and smirked as he began to saunter over to him. “You are wearing far too many clothes, Amatus. I think you should do something about that.”

Cullen fumbled with sash and jacket, breeches, boots, shirt and smalls and by the time Dorian reached him, he was as naked as his lover. Dorian’s smirk widened and he kept going until he had Cullen pressed against the door. Cullen let out a soft moan at the feel of all of Dorian’s warm skin so close against his own and his control snapped. He wrapped his arms around Dorian’s waist and hoisted him up. Dorian let out a startled yelp and laughed and steadied himself with his arms around Cullen’s neck.

“Enthusiastic, aren’t you, Amatus,” he purred as Cullen carried him towards the bed. 

“You disapprove?” Cullen asked.

Dorian yelped again when Cullen all but tossed him onto the bed. Cullen then followed, crawling onto the bed to loom over his lover.

“I heartily approve,” Dorian replied. He then pulled Cullen down into a kiss. “Keep going.”

Cullen lowered himself on top of Dorian and left all thoughts of balls and Empresses and traitors far behind.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen takes Dorian to the lake and they are both adorably cute. But then trouble ensues and something very interesting happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of brings Cullen in line with Alistair when it comes to Templar abilities. Damn Bioware and their lack of continuity! :D

It took a couple of weeks after they got back from the ball for Cullen to organise matters so that he could be away for a few days but Cassandra and Trevelyan were more than happy to accommodate him. They both looked entirely too amused when he stammered out his plans and he was forced to ask a few pointed questions about their own relationship in retaliation. They did their share of blushing and stammering and then there had been an unspoken truce. It was only after the last of the meetings to sort out the details that he went and found Dorian.

He leaned against the wall of the alcove the mage had claimed and watched for a moment as Dorian muttered and scowled at the book he was reading then he chuckled.

“I’m not sure arguing with the book is going to get you anywhere.”

Dorian looked up in surprise then he snorted. “It’s going to relieve my blood pressure. Honestly, the state of magic here in the south is archaic.”

“I’m sure it is,” Cullen said mildly. “Do you have a moment?”

Dorian smiled. “For you, Amatus, always.”

“I have to review some holdings in Ferelden and I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was hoping you might come with me.”

Dorian eyed his lover curiously. It seemed obvious that Cullen wasn’t asking him to come with him to review the Inquisition’s holdings but for some ulterior motive that he wanted to keep secret for the moment. His curiosity made him want to finagle the secret out of Cullen but his love of a surprise – and his sure knowledge that any surprise from Cullen would be a good one – kept him from doing so.

“A little naughty getaway? Just the two of us…”

“And the retinue of soldiers,” Cullen added dryly.

“Hush,” Dorian said imperiously. “Just the two of us? I’d love to.”

Cullen chuckled. “I’m sure the soldiers will do their best to be invisible.”

“I should hope so.”

Cullen’s smile broadened. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning then.”

“I look forward to it.” Dorian waved a hand at him. “Now, leave me, Amatus. If we’re to head out tomorrow, I need to get a few things sorted.”

Cullen took the few steps required to kiss his cheek and then grinned at the gobsmacked look on Dorian’s face as he made his way down the stairs to his office.

They left early the next morning, early enough that Dorian was grumbling a little as he climbed into the saddle of his horse. Cullen just laughed at him before issuing orders to the soldiers and getting them on their way. They made good time down the mountain road and by the time they emerged into the Hinterlands, Dorian had regained his good mood.

Around midday they stopped for a meal and then Cullen sent the bulk of the solders off in one direction while only a small honour guard accompanied them as they took a smaller, less well-used path that lead into a forested area.

“So are you going to reveal our mystery destination?” Dorian asked lightly as they rode through the trees.

“Not just yet,” Cullen replied. “But we’re not far.”

Dorian chuckled. “I’m all a-quiver with anticipation.”

They finally emerged into a small clearing in the forest. Cullen dismounted and Dorian followed suit. The soldiers also dismounted and began setting up a camp and Cullen gestured towards where a narrow trail lead further onwards.

“Shall we?”

Dorian joined him and once they were out of sight of the camp, he entwined his fingers with Cullen’s. They walked in a comfortable silence for some time until they emerged on the edges of a rather pretty lake and then Cullen led him out onto a short pier.

“I used to live near here,” Cullen said quietly. “When I was a boy. I used to come down here all the time to escape my siblings.”

Dorian’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected something so intensely personal and a lump grew in his throat when he realised what this meant, how much Cullen trusted and loved him to show him something that meant so much.

“Escape your siblings?” he asked.

Cullen chuckled. “I love my siblings dearly but they could be a bit much at times. So I used to come down here for some peace and quiet. It never lasted long though before they found me and one or more of us ended up getting wet.”

Dorian looked out at the lake. “It’s very beautiful. I can see why you liked coming here.”

“I’ve never brought anyone here before and I… I wanted to share it with you.”

He looked so bashful and shy that Dorian simply had to kiss him.

“I feel honoured. Thank you.”

Cullen smiled and then he pulled something out of his belt pouch. It was a small well-worn silver coin.

“When I left to go to the Templars, my brother gave me this.” Cullen chuckled again. “He said it was a luck piece but I think it was just what he had in his pocket at the time. Templars are supposed to leave worldly goods behind when they take their vows but I couldn’t part with this.”

“My, my, Cullen Rutherford breaking the rules.” Dorian grinned. “How rebellious of you.”

Cullen laughed. “Probably the only rule I ever broke back then.” He held it out. “We don’t know what’s to come in the days ahead but… I’d like you to have this. For luck so that you’ll always come back to me.”

Dorian didn’t even think to demur. It was quite honestly the sweetest thing anyone had ever given him and that it was from Cullen made it all the better. He took the coin and simply looked at it for a moment. He was warm to touch and the images on either side were worn down from years of being held and rubbed. He slipped it into a secure pocket and patted it to make sure it was safe.

“I think I’ll get it made into a pendant so that I can wear it always,” he said, smiling up at Cullen. He hesitated for a moment then chuckled. “And I believe I will follow your brother’s excellent example.”

He pulled off one of the rings he wore on his thumb. It didn’t possess anything in the way of magic but it did bear the Pavus crest etched into the warm gold. He took Cullen’s left hand and slipped it onto his thumb, a tiny sliver of magic resizing it so that it would fit.

“I’ve had that ring since I was fourteen. It was given to me by my grandfather before he died and I began to disgrace the family name,” he said. “I’d like you to wear it now.”

Cullen smiled. “I’d be honoured.” 

He pulled Dorian into his embrace and they kissed for a time, occasionally pausing to look at each other or over the lake before kissing again, simply enjoying the peaceful air and the inherent promises in both their gifts.

Finally Cullen pulled back when a chill started to creep into the air. “We should go back to the camp.”

Dorian nodded and they walked off the pier hand in hand. They weren’t far into the forest again when Cullen suddenly stopped and looked around with a frown.

“Amatus? What’s wrong?” Dorian asked.

Cullen let go of Dorian’s hand and drew his sword even as he swung his shield off his back. “Listen.”

Dorian frowned and did as Cullen as asked. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly. There should be birds and insects.” Cullen’s face was grim. “There’s someone out there.”

Dorian swung his staff off his shoulder and as he did that, Venatori forces swept out of the trees around them. Dorian cursed as he threw a barrier around the two of them and hurled fire at the nearest Venatori soldiers. Behind him, he could hear Cullen’s war cries and the sound of combat but he couldn’t take his eyes of those attacking him to see how his lover was faring.

“It’s the Inquisition’s Commander!” came the sudden shout from the Venatori. “Take him alive!”

“You will not,” Dorian snarled as he cast Horror over as many as he could.

Cullen had never fought alongside a mage before in such close combat before. He’d fought _against_ them more than once and he’d fought with Hawke and his mage friends in the battle against Meredith but that had been nothing like this. The trees hemmed them in and made combat difficult and the Venatori had sent both mages and soldiers against them. But Dorian was keeping the barriers strong around them and his magic was striking down many and keeping much of the rest off kilter.

It took a moment for Cullen to realise that they were being subtly separated. He had expected it after the call had gone up about his identity but he’d thought he could work against anything like that. He drove his sword through the nearest mage and was just about to start to fight his way back towards Dorian when he heard the mage scream in pain and the barrier around him flickered out.

In an instant, there were spells being flung in his direction and later Cullen would say that his reaction was completely instinctive. He moved into the actions for the Spell Shatter without thought and when the power flowed out from him, sending the Venatori mages to their knees, he didn’t have time to be shocked that it had actually _worked_. He launched immediately into Wrath of Heaven and took brutal, ruthless advantage of the stunned and staggering Venatori.

As he did, the Inquisition soldiers who had formed the honour guard came running along the trail and launched into the battle themselves. Cullen took the opportunity to make his way over to Dorian, who was lying still and silent on the ground. He took the head off the mage who had been approaching his unconscious lover and knelt down beside him.

“Dorian!” he said urgently but a quick check revealed that Dorian was still breathing and there was a blood running from a gash on his forehead.

Cullen gave a sigh of relief and got to his feet, intending to enter the battle again, but when he looked around, he saw it was all but over. His troops had taken advantage of the stunned enemy and as he watched, the last of the Venatori forces was despatched.

“Commander! Are you alright?” asked the young Lieutenant in charge of the honour guard as Cullen dropped to one knee next to Dorian again.

“Yes but Dorian isn’t. Get a litter,” Cullen barked.

Orders were swiftly issued and in short order a litter appeared. Dorian was carefully placed on it and taken back to camp, where one of the soldiers, who had some expertise, looked him over, cleaning the blood from the wound and bandaging it.

“I think it’s just a cut, ser, and a knock to the head,” she said to Cullen. “But I’d like to send a runner to the main group and get them to send one of the healers back, just to be sure.”

“Do it,” Cullen said shortly.

The soldier saluted and moved off. Cullen stripped off his armour and set it aside with his sword and shield and then sat down next to Dorian, taking the man’s hand in his own. His thoughts were in turmoil about what he’d done during the battle and with Dorian’s injury and he couldn’t seem to focus enough to work through them.

He looked up when the Lieutenant stopped next to him and saluted. “Commander, we’ve secured the perimeter and searched the bodies of the Venatori. They had orders to patrol this area of Ferelden but nothing specific in regards to either you or Lord Pavus. I think we were just unlucky that they stumbled across us, ser.”

Cullen rubbed his forehead. He knew he should be doing things, organising things, but he couldn’t stop either the thoughts that were swirling around in his mind or his worry over Dorian. “We need to get word back to Skyhold about these patrols.”

“I sent a message along with the runner, Commander,” the Lieutenant said. “The main force will see it’s passed on.”

Cullen gave the young man a nod of approval. “Very good, Lieutenant.”

The young man saluted with a brisk, “Ser!” and then went back to supervising the honour guard. Cullen’s attention was drawn back to Dorian when the man gave a low moan and his eyes slowly opened.

“Dorian!” Cullen gave a sigh of relief. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been hit on the head,” Dorian muttered, raising his free hand to poke at the wound on his forehead. He hissed and snatched it away almost immediately. “Ouch!”

Cullen chuckled, relieved to see his lover sounding and acting so normally. “Nothing else?”

“No.” Dorian winced and then slowly sat up. Cullen immediately shifted to help him. “And you?”

“I… I’m fine,” Cullen said, looking away.

Dorian was instantly worried. “Amatus? What’s wrong?”

Cullen shook his head and managed a weak smile. “Not yet. Let’s… let’s just wait until the healer gets here and checks you out.”

Dorian caught his hand. “I’m fine, Amatus. Yes, my head hurts where I got hit and I have a headache but I’m _fine_.”

Cullen looked down at their joined hands. “I used the Shatter and Wrath of Heaven.”

Dorian stared at him, trying to think past his horrendous headache. They’d been continuing their experiments since Cullen’s bad period and he’d proven unable to use his Templar abilities after that time. Which had supported Dorian’s theory about that bad period being the last of the lyrium leeching out of Cullen’s body. But this…

“You used them?”

Cullen nodded. “I didn’t even think about it. When you were knocked unconscious, the barrier went down and the Venatori mages started casting spells. I just moved into it without even thinking and… it worked.”

“How is that possible?”

“I have no idea,” Cullen replied.

Dorian rubbed the back of Cullen’s hand. “Were they strong?”

Cullen nodded again. “Yes. I don’t think they were as strong as I’ve cast them in the past but they weren’t far off that level.”

“And you’re not taking lyrium,” Dorian mused. 

It wasn’t a question. He knew Cullen wasn’t. While they weren’t officially living together, it was a very rare night when both of them were in Skyhold where they weren’t either in Cullen’s office and rooms or his. He also knew that if Trevelyan was given even the _slightest_ hint that Cullen might _possibly_ be even _vaguely_ thinking about backsliding and taking lyrium again, he’d have every ounce of it removed from Skyhold in an instant. Cullen was not taking lyrium and hadn’t done so for a very long time. Based on their experiments, this should be impossible.

“Didn’t you tell me once that King Alistair could use Templar abilities without taking lyrium?” he finally asked.

Cullen nodded. “I did but it was always just a rumour as far as I knew. No one had ever confirmed it.”

“Perhaps it might be time to write to the good King and get that confirmation.” Cullen winced and Dorian eyed him curiously. “You don’t want to?”

“I… haven’t spoken to Alistair in a long time and the last time I did, it wasn’t under very good circumstances,” Cullen admitted.

“You know him?” Dorian looked surprised.

Cullen’s expression turned rueful. “We were trainees together. He…” He chuckled fondly. “He didn’t take it very seriously and drove the knights mad but… I liked him. He was… very likable.”

“And the last time you spoke to him?” Dorian asked, though he suspected he knew the answer.

“Kinloch,” Cullen said with a grimace. “After they had come and rescued me and saved the Tower. I was… a fool.”

Dorian reached out and caressed his cheek. “I suspect you were more traumatised than foolish but if Alistair is how you describe him, I hardly think he’d hold that against you.”

“Probably not,” Cullen conceded then he sighed. “I’ll write to him. We need the answers to this.”

Dorian was about to reply but just then the runner returned with a healer in tow. The man descended on Dorian and all conversation was left on the sidelines while the mage was taken care of.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Dorian tell Cassandra and Maxwell about what happened and Cullen gets a new perspective on what's happened.

Discussion about what had happened was put off, by mutual unspoken agreement, until they returned to Skyhold. Cullen gave a very terse report about the altercation in the War Room, completely avoiding the subject of precisely _how_ he’d fended off the Ventori mages, then asked for Trevelyan and Cassandra to come to a private meeting that evening. They both looked startled and worried but Cullen refused to answer their questions, just stating he’d explain everything at the meeting.

When Maxwell and Cassandra arrived at Cullen’s office that evening, they found Dorian lounging in Cullen’s chair behind the desk, looking deceptively calm while he watched Cullen pace back and forth across the room. However, knowing him as well as they did, they could see the worry and concern in his eyes.

“Well, we’re here,” Maxwell said.

“Lock the doors,” Cullen said tersely.

Cassandra’s eyebrows went up but she did as had been asked. She had rarely seen Cullen like this since the worst of the withdrawal had passed.

“What has happened?” she demanded once the last of the doors was securely locked.

“You’ve read the reports about the work I’ve been doing with Dorian?” Cullen asked.

Cassandra nodded then said in aside to Maxwell, “I asked Cullen and Dorian to test whether lyrium is required for a Templar to use his abilities. From the work they have done it seems the answer is no.”

Trevelyan nodded but before he could say anything, Cullen interrupted.

“I… may have been wrong.”

“In what way?” Cassandra asked with brisk commanding efficiency and they all saw something in Cullen relax fractionally.

“In my report, I left out exactly how I managed to deal with the mages after Dorian was knocked out,” he said.

“I noticed,” Trevelyan said with a nod. “I figured you wanted it off the record and I was willing to wait until you were ready to tell me.”

“I used the Shatter on them and then Wrath of Heaven.” Cullen’s jaw worked for a moment then he continued, “It was… automatic. I was so into the battle mind that I didn’t even think, just… when I saw the spells, I used Shatter. And it worked.”

There was a moment of silence after that admission as both Cassandra and Maxwell absorbed that information.

“Can you do it again?” Cassandra asked. “Clear-minded and calm.”

Cullen nodded. “I tested it on the way back here. I can do… everything. Purge, Shatter, Wrath of Heaven, Silence.”

“As strong as ever?”

“I think so.” Cullen frowned. “I don’t _think_ they’re anything less than what they were when I was taking lyrium regularly. If they are, it’s not by much.”

Cassandra nodded thoughtfully then gave Cullen a long look. “And how do you feel about that?”

Now Cullen slumped. He leaned against his desk and ducked his head. Dorian immediately got up and rounded the desk, settling himself next to his lover and just pressing against him lightly.

“I… I don’t know,” Cullen finally said. He shook his head then raised it. Trevelyan winced at the weary, almost broken look in the man’s eyes but Cassandra stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You are not the man you once were, Cullen. Your ability to use the Templar gifts does not change that. They did not make you that man. That man was created by the terrible abuses you suffered at the hands of mages and the abject failure of the Order to help you recover. By Meredith’s deliberate and ruthless manipulation of a young, wounded man. These gifts are tools, much like your sword and shield. How you use them, when you use them and why you use them is entirely your choice.”

Cullen looked up at her and Cassandra’s grip on his shoulder tightened at the look in his eyes. She knew that the mental and emotional wounds he bore – from Kinloch and from the acknowledgement of how far he’d fallen in Kirkwall – went deep and not all had healed even now. She knew he doubted himself so deeply and that doubt caused him to drive himself so relentlessly, perhaps even to the brink of collapse and beyond if not for her and Dorian’s interference.

So to see the sense of revelation and wonder in his eyes as he listened to her words and _believed_ them – for she did not lie to him, she never had, she had always faced his past, his present and his future bluntly as she did all things and he knew that, knew that she would tell the truth and she _would not lie_ for she was a Seeker of _Truth_ and believed in that as deeply as she carried her faith – brought a lump to her throat.

She gave his shoulder a small shake and then when he blinked and his expression cleared she smiled faintly and stepped back. She saw Dorian slip his arm quietly around Cullen’s waist and knew that she could leave the rest of the reassurance Cullen needed to the mage. 

“The question I have is how?” Maxwell asked quietly into the silence that had fallen. “Everything I was taught, everything I’ve read says that Templars need lyrium to use their abilities.”

“The stories all say that Alistair used Templar abilities during the Blight,” Cullen said after clearing his throat. “And he never took lyrium in the first place. He was conscripted into the Grey Wardens before he ever got to that point.”

“Don’t you learn how to use them during your training?” Dorian asked.

Cullen nodded slowly. “Yes, to a point. The theory and the mechanics are taught but you’re not permitted to use them prior to taking your vows.” He frowned. “I mean, I don’t know a trainee who hasn’t _tried_ but… they don’t work.”

“Don’t work or you’re convinced by your teachers they won’t work,” Dorian mused. “I know with magic, a mage’s… hmm, it’s not quite the right word but a mage’s belief or faith in their abilities… their confidence in themselves… has an effect on their ability to wield spells.”

“He’s right,” Maxwell added. “Look at poor Minaeve. I’ve seen her cast spells and she’s actually a lot better than she thinks she is but I think between what her clan did to her and whatever she experienced in the Circle, her confidence has been shattered. I think she’d even accept Tranquility if it was offered to her.”

“So you’re saying we’re… convinced we need lyrium?” Cullen said doubtfully.

“King Alistair’s example indicates there’s some truth in that,” Dorian replied. “How much of a follower of rules was he?”

Cullen couldn’t seem to help the chuckle that escaped him. “Not much of one. He was always in trouble but he mostly managed to charm his way out of it.” Understanding dawned on his face. “He wasn’t much inclined to pay attention in class either. He was good at the practical side but not so much on the theory. He wasn’t _stupid_ , not by any means, just…”

“A man of action?” Dorian suggested with a quick grin.

“That’d work,” Cullen said ruefully. “He may have _heard_ all that instruction about when and how we can use the abilities but it probably went in one ear and out the other.”

“Could it be as simple as that?” Cassandra asked, looking very interested. 

Dorian snorted. “Given what I’ve heard about your Templar Order, I wouldn’t be surprised. They do a very good job of brainwashing their acolytes.”

“I… wouldn’t go that far,” Cullen objected then he hesitated and looked troubled.

“Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little,” Dorian conceded. “But they certainly do their best to get you all hopping in one direction.”

Cullen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was planning on writing to King Alistair, asking him some questions about it.”

“That would be a good idea,” Cassandra said firmly. “And I trust you will return to your training with them.”

Cullen hesitated only for a moment before nodding. “I will.”

“I confess I would very much like to know what being Silenced is like,” Dorian said with a raised eyebrow.

Cullen’s head whipped round and he stared at his lover in horror. “What? Dorian, _no_.”

“It doesn’t hurt precisely,” Maxwell said. “But it’s not pleasant, Dorian. You get… cut off from the Fade essentially. It’s very unnerving.”

“There have been no reports of the Red Templars using Silence,” Cullen continued. “In fact, there have been no reports of the Red Templars using any of their abilities. You don’t need to know how to deal with it.”

“I know I don’t _need_ to know that, Amatus,” Dorian said, looking slightly amused at the sudden rush of concern. “And I’m certainly not asking to experience it daily. I’d just like to know what it’s like. Add to my notes and such.” He turned to Maxwell. “Does it physically hurt a mage?”

Maxwell hesitated then shook his head. “No but I have seen mages have panic attacks after being hit with it. Dorian, you’ve grown up always knowing your magic is inherently good and a wanted part of you. Silence… removes your ability to cast any kind of magic, to even be able to _feel_ your magic. It doesn’t last for too long but still.”

Dorian just looked even more intrigued. “How long does it last?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes,” Maxwell replied then he grimaced. “A few of us got hit by accident when one of the apprentices got a bit hysterical and started lighting fires indiscriminately.” He shuddered. “That’s not an experience I’d care to repeat.”

“I think I can cope for ten or fifteen minutes,” Dorian said. He turned to Cullen and leaned in a bit closer. “Just once, Amatus, and if I react badly, you can spend the rest of the day saying I told you so.”

Cullen gave a weak smile. “ _Once_ ,” he said firmly. “And no more.”

“Very well. Now that Dorian has convinced Cullen to indulge him once again in his foolishness, let’s get back on track,” Cassandra said dryly. “Cullen, please write to King Alistair and keep me apprised of both his reply and your training.”

Cullen nodded, easily hearing the underlying request that came, not from the Seeker but from his friend Cassandra, to let her know if he had any troubles personally with this. They both knew that with his tendency to brood on things, he was liable to work himself into a dark place again. He could hope that Dorian’s presence would stop that but… he knew himself too well.

“Be careful, both of you,” Maxwell said, still looking troubled by Dorian’s plan.

“You worry too much,” Dorian said but the nod he gave the Inquisitor said he was taking this seriously. 

Cassandra and Maxwell left and once the door closed, Cullen turned his head and rested his forehead on Dorian’s shoulder. Dorian ran a hand through his lover’s hair soothingly.

“She’s right, you know. These abilities of yours are as much tools as magic is. They don’t define you and what you do with them is what makes them good or evil.” He made a small amused sound. “Look at what you did to those Venatori mages. We of Tevinter have no defences against Templar abilities because our Templars are merely ornamental.” Now he laughed properly. “Maker, I really must take you home with me and turn you loose on the Magisterium. Talk about setting a cat amongst the pigeons.”

Cullen raised his head. He looked like he was caught between disapproval and amusement. “Dorian. I am not using these abilities on the Magisters.”

“You say that now, Amatus, but I can guarantee you that within two days of meeting them, you’ll be changing your mind,” Dorian replied lightly and when Cullen looked sceptical, he arched an eyebrow. “Two words. Blood magic.”

“Alright,” Cullen said with a frown. “You may have a point there.”

“Would they work on blood magic?’ Dorian asked curiously. 

Cullen nodded. “Silence isn’t a great deal of use but the rest will.”

“You say that with a great deal of certainty.”

“There were a lot of blood mages in Kirkwall,” Cullen said with a shudder.

Dorian frowned. “I’ve heard Varric say that as well. That’s unusual, isn’t it? Despite everything, your mages here tend to be fairly orderly, even in their rebellion.”

Cullen shook his head. “They say the Veil is very thin in Kirkwall. I don’t know whether that has an effect. Maybe combined with Meredith’s… insanity, it pushed too many mages in that direction.”

“Hmm, maybe.” Dorian set the thought aside for the moment. He brushed his fingers over Cullen’s cheek then lightly ran then over the dark circles under his eyes. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to get some sleep. Maker knows you need it.”

Cullen shook his head and glanced back at the piles of paperwork on his desk. “I can’t.”

Dorian sighed but he didn’t look surprised. He honestly hadn’t expected any other answer. “Will you at least take it easy?”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” Cullen smiled slightly and ran his fingers through Dorian’s hair to where he’d been hit. “You were the one who was injured.”

“Yes, and thanks to the healers I got a great deal of rest,” Dorian replied. “You were the one sitting up to all hours of the night, brooding over all of this.”

Cullen ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Dorian snorted. “Yes, Amatus. Yes, you were. When I asked, I was told that’s exactly how bad you were.”

“I am going to have to have a word with the troops,” Cullen muttered.

“It wasn’t your precious soldiers,” Dorian said dryly. “They all hero worship you far too much for that. It was the healers.”

He almost laughed at the expressions that ran across Cullen’s face at that. He knew that Cullen was uncomfortable with the idea that his soldiers idolised him but he also fussed over them like a proud father, which kind of encouraged the hero worship, because what soldier didn’t like knowing that their commanding officer actually cared about their welfare. And there was no chance he would ever chastise the healers.

He nudged his way between Cullen’s legs and drew him into a soft kiss. “At least promise you’ll let me interrupt you for lunch and then drag you away early tonight.” He smirked a little. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Cullen blushed and kissed him back. “I think it would be against my own best interests if I said no.”

“Indeed it would.”

Dorian kissed him one more time, lingering a little then nipping lightly at his bottom lip. When he pulled away, Cullen’s eyes were a little glazed and his lips were wet and red. It was an exceptionally good look on his lover.

“And on that note.” Dorian grinned as Cullen visibly pulled himself together and then he ducked out of the door, heading for his little alcove in the library.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Alistair's response to the lyrium question arrives. It doesn't make Cullen very happy but Dorian gives him a new perspective on the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I haven't abandoned this. I've just had muse problems combined with changes in my work that made this chapter a bear to write.

When Dorian entered Cullen’s office, he was surprised to see that Cullen was actually sitting down in the chair behind his desk. Normally that chair functioned as a temporary book shelf as Cullen found it easier to ignore the aches and pains of his withdrawal if he was on his feet. Today, however, Cullen was sprawled in the chair, frowning at the letter in his hand and tapping at his lip with one finger. Dorian couldn’t tell whether the frown was an unhappy one or a thoughtful one so he resorted to his usual tactic when he was uncertain.

“Amatus, how nice to see you using your chair for its purpose,” he said dryly.

Cullen gave a start and looked over at him then down at his current position. He sighed and smiled wryly. “And hello to you too, Dorian. What brings you over here?”

“Nothing that’s more important than a letter that puts that expression on your face,” Dorian replied, sauntering over and leaning against the desk. “Has Josephine allowed one of those impertinent proposals to slip through?”

He’d thought all those lovelorn letters to Cullen after the Masquerade had been amusing at the time. These days, they were far less so. He wasn’t quite ready to admit why right now.

“It’s from King Alistair,” Cullen said, waving the letter a bit. He then gave a small huff of laughter. “His writing hasn’t improved one bit. He still scratches like a chicken.”

Dorian leaned forward and chuckled at the scribbly writing he could see from that angle. “I somehow don’t think you’re truly frowning at the King of Fereldan’s shoddy penmanship, Amatus.”

Cullen sighed. “No, not really. Though reading this might have been easier if I hadn’t had to pause to decipher every fourth word.”

“Amatus.”

Cullen licked his lips. “Lyrium isn’t necessary. He’s never taken it and he’s always been able to use his abilities. He never knew that Templars thought that lyrium was required, just that it enhanced the abilities. Though he admits he might have been asleep during that class.” He paused and smiled wryly. “He was.” He shook his head. “They’ve been lying to us all this time.”

The bitter anger in Cullen’s voice at that last part propelled Dorian forward and he deftly plucked the letter from Cullen’s hand and just as deftly insinuated himself onto his lover’s lap. Cullen looked startled then he wrapped his arms around Dorian and let his forehead drop to his shoulder. Dorian ran one hand gently through Cullen’s hair as he parsed his way through King Alistair’s letter. The King had a somewhat scattered way of writing but the obvious concern and worry that oozed through the latter half of the letter once Alistair had grasped the truth of the lyrium question made Dorian forgive the man his atrocious calligraphy.

“So it seems,” he said evenly. He’d never been terribly devout, though he certainly believed in the Maker, but he didn’t think it would be wise to look too pleased at this evidence that the southern Chantry was as venal in its own way as the Chantry in Tevinter. “But this is not all bad news, surely?”

Cullen raised his head and he looked tired and a little lost. “I have abilities I was happy to leave behind because… because of the associations they have and confirmation of the Chantry’s lies. I’m not sure what’s good in that.”

“You can protect yourself and others from the Venatori’s mages,” Dorian replied then he smirked. “And I now have the strongest urge to take you back with me to Tevinter and let you loose on the Magisterium.”

Cullen smiled slightly at that. “I am not Silencing the Magisterium just because you’re feeling cross at them, Dorian.”

“Wait until you’ve listened to them for a few days,” Dorian said dryly. “Then you’ll change your mind.”

Cullen chuckled and Dorian was pleased to see some of the tension and bitterness on Cullen’s face ease a little.

“Besides,” he pointed out. “It is not the powers that make a Templar, it is the mindset and actions. I’d imagine there were Templars who could barely use their powers without hurting themselves, yes?”

Cullen was silent then he nodded. “Yes. They were generally set tasks and duties that wouldn’t require them to use their abilities.”

“So, what makes a Templars isn’t these abilities,” Dorian continued. “I’d imagine anyone could learn them if they had the same training as you did. A Templar is…”

“A promise,” Cullen whispered. “A protection. A shield. Or… that’s what a Templar is _supposed_ to be.”

“The Templar Order is not the only organisation that has run right off the road over the centuries,” Dorian said, gently brushing his fingers along Cullen’s cheek. “But not every Templar is corrupt or has joined Samson. We have our own Templars here, do we not?”

Cullen nodded and Dorian considered how to say this next part. Cullen might not have realised it but those Templars respected their Commander a great deal. They started out taking their lead from Rylen but had soon come to respect Cullen for himself. Dorian knew that more than a few of these Templars were aware that Cullen wasn’t taking lyrium or at least suspected it was the case. They certainly knew Cullen wasn’t drawing lyrium from the stocks held by the Templars at Skyhold and there had been discussion about Cullen’s behaviour and appearance. The most obvious conclusion had been drawn by the Templars.

Dorian hadn’t gone out of his way to learn all of this. It had been Cole who’d told him and continued to bring him information. Sera had also mentioned a few things she’d overheard in the tavern. He suspected Cole had picked up on his concern but Sera’s motivations were a little murkier, though he knew that Sera did rather like Cullen even if she thought he was a bit too much of a stuffed shirt. The pranks she directed at him were not malicious, which was message enough right there.

What had surprised him was the interest the Templars had in Cullen’s progress with his withdrawal. Cole had said some very confusing things but as far as Dorian could decipher, the Templars had become horrifyingly aware of the dangers of using lyrium, beyond what they’d already known, as they watched friends and colleagues be turned into monsters of red lyrium. They were afraid of what could happen to them with just a small mistake and abruptly wary of the lyrium they did use and whether there were effects that had been hidden from them. So while they didn’t know for certain what Cullen was doing, they suspected and they watched with barely hidden interest and hope.

“Our Templars greatly respect you,” he said, testing the waters a little.

Cullen looked at him with surprise. “What? But I… I left the Order.”

Dorian smiled thinly. “Yes, you did and I think they have a fair idea of why. Or at least, not your personal reasons but the general idea that the Chantry is not what they all thought it was.” He paused. “You should talk to them, Amatus. Or ask Rylen. He’ll give you an unvarnished opinion.”

Cullen smiled a little. “Yes, he will.” 

He greatly valued his second-in-command’s blunt manner of speaking but more importantly, his quick mind and knowledge. He disliked having to stick him out in the Western Approach but given the distances involved and the amount of Venatori and Red Templar activity in that direction, he needed to have a high level commander in the region. The troops needed to be able to get answers and command decisions quickly, not have to wait for days while a raven made its way to Skyhold and back. Cullen had given Rylen a great deal of command authority in his own right. He’d trusted the Knight-Captain from the beginning and Rylen had repaid that trust tenfold. But he did miss having him around.

Rylen knew that he had stopped taking lyrium. Cullen hadn’t told him but Rylen was too smart not to figure out what his symptoms in those early days in Haven meant. He had confronted him about it one evening and, when he’d reluctantly confirmed it, had then turned into a rather brusque mother hen. He’d have laughed if he hadn’t been so relieved that Rylen not only seemed to understand _why_ he was doing it but also seemed approving. He’d even made the comment that it wasn’t a bad idea but the Inquisition couldn’t afford to have both of them doing the same thing at the same time, just in case. That was the moment Cullen knew he’d chosen very well indeed when it came to his second-in-command.

“As for the Chantry,” Dorian said into the comfortable silence that had fallen. “From all I’ve heard, even the Divine was aware that something needed to be done. The Inquisition was forming even before the explosion occurred at the Conclave, am I right?”

Cullen nodded slowly. In the wake of the explosion, it was easy to forget that fact. The Inquisition wasn’t really formed because of the explosion. It was why _Cassandra_ had forced the issue with Leliana’s backing but the pieces, such as Josephine and Cullen himself, had already been put into place well before that had happened. It wasn’t a stretch to say that the Inquisition was always going to go ahead in one form or another, it was just a matter of what its focus would be and that would have depended on the outcome of the Conclave.

“You think she was planning reform?”

“It makes sense,” Dorian replied then he continued on to echo Cullen’s thoughts. “Why put together the backbone of the Inquisition if you weren’t going to use it? It seems to me she was just waiting to see how far it would have to go.” He raised his eyebrows. “And wasn’t Cassandra already searching for an Inquisitor before the explosion? Trying to find the Hero of Fereldan or Hawke to ask them to take up the task?” He shrugged. “When you take into account that the Divine was already knew of the troubles with the mages and the Templars even before everything devolved into war, it seems she was well aware that diplomacy might not be enough.”

Cullen smiled at the man who was still sitting in his lap. Dorian didn’t seem inclined to move and Cullen certainly wasn’t going to evict him.

“You’re very good at this.”

“I should hope so,” Dorian said dryly. “My parents did have their eye on the Archon’s throne for me.” He shuddered. “Archon Dorian Pavus. How ghastly.”

Cullen arched an eyebrow. “Is it?”

Dorian frowned at him. “What _do_ you mean?”

“Wouldn’t being Archon give you the power to do what you wanted?”

“Not necessarily,” Dorian said with a shake of his head. “The Magisterium is where the power of Tevinter truly lies. If the Archon doesn’t have them on his side or makes a decision that angers them, well… Archons have been assassinated before.” He snorted. “In fact, the last Archon who tried to free the slaves was assassinated fairly quickly after making that decision and the new Archon restored the status quo.”

Cullen winced. “Okay, maybe not then.”

“Mind you, that Archon was a bit of an idiot.” Dorian shrugged. “He just… freed the slaves. Outlawed slavery overnight. It was a disaster. You had hordes of slaves who had no idea how to be free and thus were flailing and lost. You had slaves who were angry at their treatment, who immediately turned on their former masters. The economy collapsed overnight because almost every business in Tevinter is built on the back of slave labour and they’d simultaneously lost their labour force and didn’t have the free capital to hire workers because they hadn’t factored that into their budgets. There were murders and riots and chaos in every city in Tevinter from people of all social strata and nobody was listening to anyone who might be trying to talk sense.”

Cullen gaped at him. “Seriously?”

Dorian gave a small laugh. “Deadly serious. The Magisterium called an emergency session that excluded the Archon and within the hour there had been an unspoken agreement that the Archon had to go. In fact, that was apparently decided in the first ten minutes. Even the Archon’s most ardent supporters didn’t create a fuss. In fact, most of them supported the move. The rest of the time was spent deciding on who the replacement was going to be. The first thing the new Archon did was repeal the outlawing of slavery, restore status quo and send out the army to restore order and round up the slaves. There’s never been any further serious consideration of getting rid of slavery ever since.”

“Aren’t you planning on freeing the slaves?”

Dorian scoffed. “I intend to be far more intelligent about the matter. You can’t just drop that bombshell and assume it’s going to go well. I spoke to Hawke about his friend Fenris, which was highly edifying.” He suddenly looked rather ruefully amused. “I’d try and speak to Fenris himself if I could be sure he wouldn’t try and kill me.”

Cullen frowned. “Fenris never struck me as being that wild.”

“You’ve met him?”

“Briefly,” Cullen said with a nod. “It was well known that where Hawke went, Fenris would be there as a very grouchy, glaring back up. He was there most of the times I encountered Hawke. He was… respectful. I never got the impression it was because he thought I was his superior, just that he respected Templars in general.”

“He may well,” Dorian replied. “He hasn’t had very good experiences with mages. I’d imagine the thought of being able to negate a mage’s power was very attractive to him.”

Cullen nodded thoughtfully. “You should speak to Varric. He might be willing to act as an intermediary to convince Fenris you don’t have any nefarious plans but truly wish to speak to him about ending slavery.”

Now it was Dorian’s turn to look thoughtful. “Hmm, I might do that. Fenris would be a valuable resource when it comes to working out how to do this properly.” He frowned at Cullen, though it was more playful than anything else. “And I do believe you’re trying to distract me.”

“Not intentionally,” Cullen said with a sigh. “I just… don’t know what to do with this information.”

Dorian shifted closer to Cullen, wriggling in a very lewd fashion as he did, and had the satisfaction of seeing Cullen’s attention focus solely on him as his cheeks reddened and his pupils dilated. He adored the fact that even though they had been together for several months now, Cullen’s interest had not faded in the slightest. If anything, now that he was more comfortable in their relationship, Cullen had let more of his walls down and was more willing to not only initiate things between them but to allow Dorian to ‘distract’ him from his duties. Though Dorian knew that the reason he was allowed to distract Cullen was because he’d proven that he understood how important Cullen’s job was to him and his ‘distractions’ were mostly designed to ensure he took breaks from time to time.

“What is there to do with it?” he murmured as he closed the gap between them. “You are still you, Cullen Rutherford, with or without your Templar abilities. Nothing has really changed with this knowledge for you personally. The only way this information would drag you back into the abyss is if you allowed it. Which you will not.”

Cullen closed his eyes and shuddered underneath him. The blunt, definitive statements seem to ease something inside him and when he opened his eyes again, he surged forward, wrapping his arms around Dorian and capturing his mouth in an eager kiss. Dorian made absolutely no complaints about this and instead returned the kiss as he plunged his hands into Cullen’s hair, doing his best to work it back into its natural curls. From the noise Cullen made, he knew what he was doing but he didn’t stop kissing him.

As they continued to kiss, Dorian began to slowly rock his hips into Cullen’s, drawing a low noise of want from his lover. Cullen’s arms tightened around him and Dorian started moving faster. He pulled away to draw a breath then gasped as Cullen shifted his attention to his jaw and neck.

“Hey, Cullen… oh, Maker’s balls… sorry, sorry, I’m going!”

The sound of the door banging open and then the Inquisitor startled voice made them both jump and Dorian would have fallen if Cullen didn’t have such a good grip on him. They looked over to the door just in time to see it close behind the flustered Trevelyan then Cullen started laughing as he rested his forehead on Dorian’s shoulder. Dorian joined in, running his fingers gently through Cullen’s hair.

“Maybe we should pick this up later?” Cullen suggested faintly.

Dorian very deliberately rolled his hips down into Cullen’s, grinning at the moan he got in return. “I think you should take me upstairs instead,” he said lightly.

Cullen shuddered then he raised his head, a light in his eyes that Dorian thoroughly approved of. “Lock the doors, love,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.

Dorian climbed off his lap with alacrity and headed for the doors with a grin. He’d successfully enticed Cullen away from his work. He was certainly not going to waste that.


End file.
